


On the Other Side of the Glass

by Capucine



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU, The Batman (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Dark, Alternate Universe - Evil, Anger, Angst, Brother Feels, Brother-Sister Relationships, Brothers, Child Abuse, Drama, Fluff, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Muteness, Parent-Child Relationship, Peril, Sign Language, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-14
Updated: 2018-02-06
Packaged: 2018-06-02 06:40:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 15
Words: 22,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6555697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Capucine/pseuds/Capucine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dick Grayson has been catapulted into an alternate universe. He needs to find out how to survive here and fast.</p>
<p>What he discovers is that this is hardly as easy as it sounds, what with the differences in his alternate self's relationships with his family. And their relationships with each other.</p>
<p>Plus the whole Evil Batman problem.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Just kinda popped up out of nowhere. Probably the feeling of how my parents used to be about asking for forgiveness when we didn't know why we were in trouble. Good times.

The problem with being in an alternate universe, of course, was not knowing what you meant to your family and friends’ counterparts.

For instance, Dick Grayson was quite certain the Damian he knew would not latch on like a puppy around his legs, ten year old cheeks somehow more chubby or babylike than the Damian he knew, and press his face into his thigh and start crying and pleading with him.

He seemed strangely subdued in this display, though his arms were quite tight. “What the—Damian? What’s going on?”

Damian just sobbed, clinging, “I didn’t mean to, you have to tell him, please—“

And Dick wondered what the fuck kind of universe he’d gotten switched into, frankly, as a stormy looking Bruce Wayne came towards him.

Damian leapt to his feet like he’d been shocked, eyes wide in what must have been an attempt to look serious, like he hadn’t been crying. It didn’t give that effect at all. 

“Bruce—“ Dick started, stepping in between the two.

“Richard,” came the curt response. Barely a glance in his direction before it was returned towards Damian.

“Damian. If you make restitution now, you will not be punished as severely.”

That did not sound like a Bruce Wayne that Dick knew at all. He swallowed thickly, trying hard to figure out how to proceed—and what allowing ‘punishment’ would mean for this Damian. The boy seemed fairly terrified, and Dick really didn’t want to let him get hurt.

“I—I—“ Damian was hiccuping, which was detrimental to his attempt at ‘restitution.’ “I w-was wrong to—d-disobey and be disrespectful—“

“Specifically what you did,” Bruce cut in sharply.

Damian swallowed loud enough to be heard, hiccups forcing their way out but no words. His eyes seemed to darting a bit back and forth, and that was about when Dick realized: Damian didn’t know what he’d done.

He chanced a guess. “F-for spilling salt in—“

Bruce cut him off. “Clearly you have no remorse for what you did, or you’d make an appropriate restitution for it. Get over here.”

And Dick had to do something. “Hold on a minute, if he doesn’t know what rule he’s broken—“

Dick could feel the horrified eyes of Damian on his back, and the sharp way Bruce responded, “If he doesn’t know the rules by now, then he is incredibly stupid. The fact is, he does know them, he chooses to be obstinate.”

Damian, this Damian, was biting his lips tightly, a show of weakness the Damian Dick knew would never have done. 

And Dick wondered where the hell he was. He was obviously in a place he existed. But beyond that… “Maybe give him a pass this time? I mean, I just got back, you know, and I wanted to spend some time with him.”

Bruce’s eyes narrowed. “You only went to pick up Tim.” Then his eyes gazed behind Dick. “Where _is_ Tim, by the way?”

“Oh, he had a couple things to do,” Dick fibbed quickly, cursing internally and figuring he’d better figure out who and where Tim was in this universe.

At that moment, Bruce’s phone rang, a thickly metallic, techno kind of sound. Dick knew instantly it was Tim’s ring tone from the way Bruce looked at him before he answered. Dick wished he could hear Tim’s side. “I see. I see. Well, it seems Dick had better things to do. Sit tight. He’s coming. Now.”

He hung up. “Well? You do know where he is, don’t you?”

Dick had no fucking idea. “Should I pick him up something to eat first? He sounded cranky.”

Damian was staring at him like he was insane. His hand was clenched in the side of Dick’s pants, but was slowly loosening, as if realizing he was attached to a bomb.

“Really?” Bruce looked at him skeptically. “Could you hear him, then?”

“No,” Dick admitted, wondering what misstep he’d made. 

Bruce seemed to consider this. “He’s at the clock tower. He’s been doing surveillance on The Penguin for about eight hours now.” He glanced at his watch. “With your negligence, of course, it’s more like nine and a half at this point. So, it might be good to get him some chicken.”

Damian’s mouth tightened at that. 

Dick nodded, deciding he might pick up something else. Pizza might be good, if he could find ready made. “Got it. Where’d I park my…?”

“Over by the West Wall. Your motorcycle,” Damian supplied, eyes on the ground. He seemed completely unwilling to look up, as if he knew he was being left to punishment.

And Dick tried anyway. “Hey, will I need Damian with me? I think—“

“No.”

The look was a bit scary, and Dick swallowed down a painful lump in his throat—it seemed to settle in his chest instead.

He’d have to do this as quickly as possible instead.

“Be back, little D,” he promised, and winced internally, hoping the nickname was miraculously the same.

“Yeah, big D,” Damian murmured quietly.

And Dick took off. Casually at first, but then picking up his pace. He had to get the food, he figured, because a Tim without food could be extremely cranky and he didn’t know what kind of Tim he was dealing with.

The motorcycle was gray, of all things, barely shiny. The helmet clicked on easily, and he could hear a slight buzz of the comm system starting up.

A clicking noise filled his helmet when he was halfway down one of the streets to the nearest clocktower (he hoped). It was fast, like someone was doing it purposely, and he tried to figure what the hell he was hearing. “Hello?” he tried, and that was pretty stupid.

The clicking stopped, then started again, almost slower.

Dick was trying to figure out what this could be. It didn’t sound like only patches of words or voice getting through—it was more deliberate than that.

“I’m on my way,” he tried.

The clicking got faster, much like a telegraph—and suddenly, Dick realized it was a code. He tried to focus on it while driving, thinking it could be morse—but it didn’t match it. It didn’t make any sense.

It was getting faster, more frenetic, and Dick despaired at trying to figure it out. What if Morse code didn’t exist here? What if it was entirely different? Who the fuck made clicking noises to communicate over comms?

Well, that meant it was probably Tim. If Bruce’s look meant anything.

Dick decided not to get pizza and instead headed straight for the clocktower.

It was a graystone tower, the kind that was put in ages ago and overlooked most of Gotham. It used to be the tallest thing for miles around. At least, in his universe. He wasn’t certain on anything here.

With the clicking continuing in his ears, Dick walked up to the clocktower.

Suddenly, there was a shout in the comm, a third person joining in. “What the fuck, at least answer him!”

Jason. Dick grimaced, not knowing what this Jason was like. “Oh, sorry, I couldn’t hear him right. I’m at the clocktower.”

“Good for you, dumbass,” came the growl back, the clicking gone. “Stop being such a sick fuck and act like you at least give a shit, kay? None of us enjoys hearing Tim panic.”

“Uh…I’m coming up, Tim. Keep your shirt on,” Dick said, feeling that was probably a stupid response. His scoping out of the situation suggested that Tim was at the top, and the nondescript building with a bird symbol was probably the one that Tim was doing surveillance on. No lights or signs of activity at all.

Dick got up there fast, and found Tim—a Tim, not his Tim—sitting up there with a plethora of gear. Most of it was packed away, but he could see the baleful look Tim gave him.

The kid was pale as hell, eyes a flat blue rather than the lively color that Dick knew, and he had a comm on. He tossed Dick a suitcase without a word, and picked up a large backpack that he strapped on. 

“Sorry, Tim.”

Dick’s words made Tim turn his head, looking at him with a questioning expression. He suddenly started moving his hands—sign language.

Tim was mute.

This struck Dick harder than maybe it should have, and he just stared for a moment. Tim clenched his teeth tightly, and signed again.

Good god, this made things a lot more complicated—he didn’t actually know sign language. Especially not this universe’s American version.

Tim’s eyes were discerning now. Like he was catching on that there was something very unusual about Dick.

He was sharp in this universe too, evidently.

“Hey. How about we grab a pizza and head home?” Dick tried, and slowly, slowly, Tim nodded, and followed him.

It put chills up Dick’s spine, to turn his back on this Tim, but he had to. So, when this Tim settled in behind him on the motorcycle, and gingerly wrapped his arms around his torso, he almost let out a breath of relief. No attempt to hurt him.

The pizza was swiftly gotten, Damian in mind the whole time, and they rushed home.

Tim disappeared with the pizza and gear immediately.

That left Dick to find Damian, and make sure the kid was okay. And hope that Tim didn’t ‘tattle.’

He wasn’t counting on finding Jason there, though.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dick is figured out and figures things out.

Jason had cornered him before he could blink, not necessarily touching him, but using his intimidating size to make him take a step back, and then, no escape.

Dick immediately put his hands up, saying, “Whoa, hold on—“

Jason was different in this universe, but something was still familiar. His teeth were tight together as he hissed, “You may think it’s funny, but I’ll fucking cut your spleen out if you don’t cut that shit out. Got me?”

“I didn’t mean to, I swear,” Dick said quickly, not wanting to fight Jason. Not knowing what to expect here if he did fight Jason.

The man—maybe nineteen, but he was somehow smaller than his Jason, cheeks a touch rounder and softer looking. Just a touch. Except for the marring mark on his left cheek.

Dick didn’t mean to stare, but Jason quickly caught him looking at the mark.

The raised scar was a clear shape: BC. And Dick had no idea what it stood for.

“Hey! What the fuck?” Jason demanded, his sharp blue eyes bringing Dick’s own back to what he was saying.

“Uh, nothing,” Dick said.

“You have your own, dickhead,” Jason growled.

Dick tried not to show his surprise, but his hand automatically went up to his cheek, fear shooting through him as he wondered if he’d been completely screwed from the beginning and Bruce, this apparently scheming man, was just playing with him.

Jason gave him a look like he’d claimed he was a squid. “What the hell? No, no one branded your cheek while you were sleeping, ‘vagabond.’”

Was that his codename? Did they have code names? Obviously they did things outside the law or in a vigilante style, but how different were things here?

“I know. I know.” Dick managed to murmur back, wondering where his mark, a _brand_ , was supposed to be. 

Jason’s eyes narrowed. He seemed to be taking Dick in more critically, and he growled, “You’d better not be fucking with me, Grayson, cause this is a whole new level even for you.”

He was supposed to be evil too, then, or at least manipulative and somewhat sadistic. Which turned Dick’s stomach, but maybe he had better play the role?

But why would Damian—

_Damian._

“Hey. I gotta go,” Dick said, putting a hand on Jason’s chest and shoving. Thank god, Jason budged, moving out of the way with an acidic frown. He seemed shorter, Dick realized, and no pit green eyes. He still glared like he might try to rip out Dick’s throat with his teeth if given a reason, but he didn’t stop him.

And Dick darted off, trying to see the most likely way to wherever Damian was. He considered asking Jason for a moment, but it would probably look suspicious for him not to know.

He heard a shriek, though, and instantly honed in on it, finding the room almost instantly.

He kind of hoped it wasn’t Damian, as he burst into what looked like a large utility closet. It was gray, a wall that looked easily cleanable—and there was Damian, bent over a chair and Bruce delivering a _caning_.

Dick’s heart gave a weird stutter, and leapt in. As Bruce pulled back the thin cane, he caught it, making Bruce’s arm jerk. “Hey!”

Bruce looked at him.

The look was hard to decipher, narrowed eyes and piercing, but then Damian let out a hiccupping sob and Dick went to him. 

There wasn’t skin broken. Damian’s clothes were still on, but it looked like it hurt a lot. He clung to Dick in a rather reckless way, hands clenching into his shirt. His face pressed against his shirt, damp cheeks making a wet spot.

Bruce’s mouth clenched tightly. “You know we had a deal. I have had enough of you doing this.”

Dick wondered what the hell the deal was, and if this behavior was actually motivated by good. His counterpart’s, that is, if he was supposed to be the asshole Jason and Tim seemed to think he was. “What part of caning him do you think is going to teach him anything?”

Bruce laughed a little, a dark sound that said Dick should know the answer. “Fear is a powerful motivator. So is pain.”

Dick’s teeth gritted as Damian shuddered, holding tighter.

He didn’t know what to do. How to proceed. He would be in danger if he blew his identity, but how could he let this Bruce harm Damian, even if it wasn’t his Damian? This kid clearly trusted him to protect him.

“Fear is a toxin,” Dick pointed out, “Stress poisons the brain.”

Logic might get through to this Batman, right? He remembered Tim talking about it one time, obliviously not applying it to himself, as always.

“A poisoned brain is weaker and easier to mold,” Bruce replied, “As you should know.”

And he continued on, before Dick could have a chance to figure out what the hell that was supposed to mean, “In any case, we have a deal. You donate some material, and Damian is mine to do with as I please. You get some slackened leash,” and here he sneered, “and I get a replacement.”

Dick’s heart did a weird, chilly stutter. Damian was _his_ kid here? How could that even…He didn’t know how to process that. “Th-that…” he had better be quiet, before he betrayed himself.

Bruce’s eyes narrowed. “I have started slow with him, given the mother’s propensity for _hiding_ him and letting him stay so soft, but if you object, I can speed up the training.”

He said it like it was an offer, but it was clearly a threat.

Dick felt his own hand on Damian’s head, a surge of protectiveness seeming to well up in his chest. The boy had soft hair, black like his and Bruce’s. Damian looked essentially the same, so Dick wasn’t sure how he could be his kid in this universe. And he was clearly scared, desperate not to hurt. To be hurt.

And how the fuck could Dick turn his back on Damian? How could he be expected to leave him to this? What kind of a bastard was his counterpart?

He was saved by clicking on the doorframe. Tim stood there, dead eyes as usual, and they barely flickered to Dick before he started signing to Bruce.

Heaven knew what he was saying, his face schooled to show nothing except maybe apathy. 

But Bruce nodded, and said, “I’ll go look at your findings, then.” And he left, hardly a glance back at Damian and Dick, thank god.

Tim was still in the doorway as Damian buried his face into Dick’s shirt, eyeing them in a way that seemed somehow off but also so exactly the Tim that Dick knew.

“Thanks?” Dick tried, not sure if he should be thanking Tim.

Tim’s eyes seemed to sharpen a little, and he nodded. Dick noticed a smear of grease from the pizza in the corner of his mouth, and the instant his eyes were on it, Tim’s pink tongue darted out to lick it away, like he was hiding evidence. Interestingly, it was the most alive Tim had looked since Dick had first seen him.

Damian was slowly quieting. He was warm and soft in Dick’s arms, in a way that the Damian of his world seemed to have never been.

Tim edged into the room, eyeing him warily. 

Dick tried to not look threatening, not look too hard at Tim. He seemed skittish, and yet also likely to fight him.

Alarmingly, Tim reached towards Damian, but he only tapped on his shoulder. 

Damian turned, seeming a little wary of Tim, but not in a fearful way. Not the same as Bruce. He was staring at Tim’s hand, which was moving through a series of signs. It looked like an alphabet, and he was going very slow.

Damian let out a little gasp as he pieced it together, and he shook his head. “I d-don’t know what you mean, of course it’s Richard…”

Tim gave him an impatient look, lips pressed tightly together.

Dick was surprised he wasn’t more frightened by this reveal. Damian looked up at him, blue eyes strangely pleading, as he said, “Tim says you’re not you. B-But I didn’t tell him you were being weird, I swear!”

Dick let out a sigh. “Am I that obvious?”

Tim nodded fervently while Damian cringed and then nodded.

Dick glanced around the room, and asked, “No bugs?”

Damian looked confused, but Tim shook his head. Gave him a thumbs up signal.

“Okay. Okay, here’s the truth: I am Dick Grayson, just not your Dick Grayson. I’m from an alternate universe.” 

Maybe he shouldn’t trust them, but it was hard not to. They were Tim and Damian, people he trusted so much back home, and it was somehow hard to completely separate them. 

Tim’s eyebrows rose, and he shook his head. As if to say, ‘Good god, why do these things happen?’ or something along those lines.

“Um…if I can ask…why are you unable to talk?” Dick was a little nervous to ask, “I mean, the Tim in my universe is sometimes a chatterbox—“

Tim pulled down his shirt collar sharply, which went high up on his neck—apparently because of the massive scar, a gnarling one that made Dick stop midsentence.

Damian hid his face at the sight of it. 

“Okay,” Dick managed, “That…that explains that.”

Tim gave him a look that said, ‘No, really?’

“What is the sign language you use?” Dick finally asked, “And the code?”

If he could communicate with Tim, it would help his chances of making it back by a lot, he figured.

Damian piped up, “It’s a variation of NZSL and the other, is, uh, Batman’s special code. I don’t know it.”

“What? New Zealand…? Why—“

“No one else understands what he says then,” Damian said quietly. “That’s what Jason told me. Bruce said it had to be that way.”

“…bastard,” Dick murmured, wanting to hold both Tim and Damian now.

Tim rolled his eyes. 

“What do I need to know? Will you help me survive here, cause I have no clue what’s going on,” Dick said, looking earnestly into Tim’s eyes.

The boy looked away, but nodded.

Hopefully, Dick could trust him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yup, Damian and Tim have definitely figured it out. More to come!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dick finds his communication with Tim and Damian to be limited at best.

Damian and Tim, even working together, were not able to tell him a lot.

It seemed to frustrate Tim a lot, his teeth clenching together audibly and his hands going through a flurry of seemingly aggravated signs. Finally, he simply slammed a fist into the wall, sounding like a painfully hard hit.

“It’s okay, Tim,” Dick reassured, “We’ll figure it out.”

The look Tim gave him was almost venomous.

Damian shied behind Dick, murmuring, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

Dick nodded softly, unsure what was safe ground to tread in this case. Tim seemed a lot angrier than the one he knew, which was probably fair, but it made things complicated. 

Well.

More complicated.

“What about Jason? Is he safe?”

“No,” Damian said, at the same time as Tim nodding.

Tim narrowed his eyes at Damian, and the gesture was quite clear this time. Which seemed a little inappropriate to direct towards an eleven year old, but everything was topsy-turvy here.

“...okay. Damian, why don’t you think Jason is safe?” Dick dreaded the answer.

“He makes me leave you. He tries to make me be alone,” Damian murmured.

Tim’s eyes looked almost burning with anger. His blue was not dead right now—instead, it locked on Dick, somehow furious with him, the hatred enough to make Dick step back.

But then Tim’s eyes cleared, he swallowed, and looked away. He made a gesture, which seemed almost dismissive.

Dick was a little afraid of what the alternate him did.

“Is...” Dick trailed off, but decided to ask anyway. “Did Jason ever die?”

The looks that Tim and Damian were giving him were nothing short of astounded incredulity. As in, _what the fuck kind of question is that?!_

“Uh, just wondering,” Dick murmured, “He kinda did in my universe.”

Tim’s brow crinkled, a certain amount of distrust there, and Damian stared at him, quietly saying, “...did he get better?”

“Uh, yeah. It’s a whole, uh, thing with the al Ghul--”

The stinging slap was certainly enough to cut Dick off. Tim’s eyes were blazing again, and he looked strangely like he took some satisfaction in getting to slap Dick.

Dick stared a moment.

“What’s an al Ghul?” Damian asked quietly, blue eyes confused and a little afraid.

And Dick looked to Tim, not sure what to tell the kid. How did Damian not know about his own heritage? How could he not know his mother’s name?

“Damian, who’s your mom?”

Damian’s brow creased, and Dick could see his bottom lip tremble a little. “I-I call her Mom, but her name’s Jennifer Kosco.”

The name didn’t ring a bell in any way.

He looked to Tim in confusion, but Tim was giving him a look like he wanted to strangle him. His eyes were seemingly more expressive than Dick had ever seen from Tim, more full of emotion. The teen made a slash gesture across his throat.

_Abort conversation._

And Dick didn’t know why, or who to really trust here.

But, he had to admit, Tim probably was more likely to be able to get him out of this alive. So, he patted Damian’s head, and said, gently, “And I’m sure she’s a great mom.”

That made Damian burst into tears.

Tim was giving him a look like he was the most incompetent moron he’d ever seen. He stepped towards them, but Damian hid behind Dick instantly, arms wrapped around him from behind. Tim opted for instead making several rather vicious gestures that Dick took to be cussing him out.

“Sorry,” Dick murmured, at a loss.

“I wanna go home,” Damian whimpered, “I want my mom. I want my mom.”

And it struck Dick—Damian must have somehow had a normal life before being snagged by Bruce. Must have been adopted or _something_ \--or Talia was excellent at adopting a new identity.

She could very well be Jennifer Kosco.

Or, this woman could some unwitting adoptive parent. Or a witting one.

Dick didn’t know how to console Damian, so he just hugged him. He could almost feel the ice in Tim’s look, and it was rather inexplicable.

Why was Tim so angry about him hugging Damian? Or, perhaps it was that he brought up the boy’s mother and upset him.

That was a distinct possibility.

“Okay,” he said, turning to Tim as he felt Damian’s warm face buried in his side, tears sort of subsided. “Can Jason help?”

There was a tight look to Tim’s mouth, but he nodded.

They walked as the three of them, Tim a sizeable distance ahead, and Damian very close.

Jason was not where Dick had left him, and he didn’t know how Tim knew where to find him—the library. It was a massive collection of books, and Jason was holding one in his hands at that moment, not reading, eyes closed and jaw clenched.

His eyes snapped open once Dick entered the doorway.

Even though Tim was already three quarters of the way to him.

“Kiwi? Why’d you bring _him_ here?” Jason grumbled, eyeing Dick suspiciously.

Apparently, Tim was Kiwi, which seemed to be an almost mean nickname to Dick, but it didn’t seem to bother Tim. Instead, he suddenly sat by the chair, and Jason went to hand him a book, but he held his palm up to refuse it.

Jason suddenly looked furious. “The fuck did he do? The fuck did--”

Tim started signing, and it was impossibly rapid, a fluent movement from one sign to the next, it seemed—Dick wasn’t always sure where one sign ended and one began.

And Jason responded in kind.

Which left Dick entirely out of the loop.

And that seemed intentional, even though this universe’s him was supposed to know NZSL.

Jason leaned back after seemingly getting into a somewhat intense conversation with Tim, murmuring, “Holy fuck…just, shit, man...”

His eyes flicked over to Dick, almost bewildered. “You’re not you, huh?”

“I guess not,” Dick responded, “Not the me that you know, anyway.”

“Well, Wayne’s gonna be fucking pissed as hell—what’s he gonna do without you?” Jason suddenly grinned, laughing. “Ha, that fucker probably hasn’t even realized—he probably thinks it’s just a mind game again. I guess our Richard is good for _something_.”

That set an unease in Dick’s stomach. “Am I...is the other me...uh, bad here?”

Jason looked to Tim. “Does he have any clue what we do?”

Tim shrugged.

“Well, Richard, welcome to the opposition. The attempt to manhandle the government into submission. The attempt to put down all rebellion against the ideals of one Bruce Wayne.”

As Dick’s stomach plummeted in horror, Jason felt the need to add,

“Oh, and to make money, of course. What would Bruce be without gobs of money, after all? How else can you turn the tide against good people?”

“Oh, fuck,” Dick murmured.

Bruce was like the Godfather or something.

He was so screwed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, yeah. Updated, it took longer than planned.
> 
> And why, you might wonder, is Jason even with them if he obviously believes they're wrong? Who is Jennifer Kosco? Why is Tim so furious with Dick? And does Bruce know all along about Dick? Wait to find out!
> 
> ALSO:
> 
> Just broke 500,000 words on this website, so small requests/prompts in celebration? Can't guarantee, but I would love to write some stuff for y'all! :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jason fills Dick in on stuff--just not everything that Dick wants or needs to know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maybe a weird update. :P

Tim was watching him, as Jason laughed. “Good god, you really are different from our darling Grayson.”

“You’re not as different as I expected,” Dick responded, because Jason really wasn’t, in comparison to Damian and Tim. 

“Hear that, Kiwi? Other me’s fucked up too.” Jason leaned forward in his seat, as Tim stolidly observed Dick. He seemed slightly more at ease seated next to Jason’s chair, and eased his book out of his hands, holding it companionably near his own chest.

Damian was very close, Dick realized, clearly frightened of Jason. Tim really wasn’t, and it was tough to puzzle out what that meant.

Or not so tough. This Jason and the Dick of this universe must be at odds. Big time. And apparently Tim was Jason’s and Damian was Dick’s, or something. Some sort of loyalty and protection deal.

But then Tim’s animosity of sorts towards Damian was unclear. It wasn’t outright hatred in the sense Dick was thinking of.

“Okay, then what am I supposed to be like here?” Dick just went with the question that was probably most helpful.

“For starters, you’re a fucking sadist,” Jason responded, “For another, you’re a real great liar…” He gave a dismissive look, “…but not this good. This wouldn’t be a play you’d make.” His gaze turned towards Tim, as if confirming.

Tim nodded.

It was turning Dick’s stomach. “I need _details_. Things I should know.”

Jason leaned in a little. “Okay, cool your goddamn jets. One would be you had a fling with Catwoman—“

“What?!”

“Shut up, it wasn’t a big deal. Well, except to Bruce. You guys did the condoms and all that shit, left amicably. No babies, no diseases, no heartbreak, far as I could tell. Also, you have a weird… _thing_ going on with the Finches—“

“The who?”

“You know, the twins. Finches? Sposed to be Rosy-Finches or some shit, but as we all know, Penguin’s fucking awful at names—“

“The _Penguin_ has _sidekicks?_ ”

Now both Jason and Tim were just staring at him. “Dude, is this news to you? Penguin’s our main roadblock here. They all have bird codenames.”

“Is he the same Penguin I know?” Dick felt a little shocked. He couldn’t be Oswald Cobblepot. How in hell’s name would he be a good guy here, and have his own bird related team?

“…I don’t know?” Jason offered, giving him a look like he was a few tents short of a circus.

“Does this Penguin look kinda, uh…disabled?” Dick went with, avoiding more nasty words. Because if they didn’t know his identity, he didn’t want to screw things over by revealing it.

“Yeah? I mean, anyone would after Bruce was through with em, but he already had some shit going on. Kinda short. Unusual hands. Other stuff. Same guy?”

Dick nodded hesitantly. They were probably the same guy. “So, the Finches…?”

Jason laughed, saying, “Good god, he doesn’t have a fucking aviary over there, huh?”

Tim was glowering a little. It was slightly unnerving. Jason seemed to take note, and started signing back and forth with him, leaving Dick entirely out of the loop again.

Then Jason looked back towards him. “Tim says you gave him pizza. Why?”

Dick must have looked confused. “Because I was late and food is a great apology?”

He could see the corner of Tim’s mouth twitch. Almost like he had to concede the point. The boy looked at Jason again, and made a sign.

“Yeah. Y’see, normally you do sometimes bring Tim food.” Jason’s voice had a harder edge to it than Dick expected. “Cept it’s usually a message. Or more accurately, a taunt. Pizza _really_ doesn’t fit in that usual game. It’s part of why Tim realized something was up.”

Jason leaned forward more. “Unless it’s a new game. I gotta admit, I’m always a little suspicious of you. No reason not to be.”

Dick could feel Damian’s grip tighten on him.

“Well, it’s not a game. I’m from another universe and I have very little idea of what’s going on,” Dick returned.

“Then why pizza?”

Dick was at a loss. What was wrong with pizza? What connections could possibly be drawn there? He looked at Damian a moment, and said, “Well, when Bruce suggested chicken, Damian seemed to hint otherwise. I arrived when the other me was supposed to have picked up Tim hours prior. Seemed like a good idea to get food, and not chicken.”

He added, “And my world’s Tim loves pizza.”

He could see Tim’s face tighten, and Jason get a deep scowl. Jason seemed to consider a moment, and say, “You seem straight up. You could totally be telling the truth here. But, if you aren’t, I am gonna slit your throat. Got me?”

Dick was bewildered, and burst out, “Why the fuck is it so important _why_ I got him pizza?”

Jason’s eyes darted to Damian a moment, before saying, “It just fucking is. I ain’t standing for a revival of old games.”

And Dick was hopelessly lost. Things were so goddamn different here, beyond what he understood—and yet, he knew it could be so much more different. These variations weren’t as extreme as some universes might be.

“Okay. No games, I promise. I’m just trying to make it out alive right now, if that’s okay.”

Jason snorted. “Classic Grayson sass.”

Then his face changed a little. “We probably oughta figure out when you got here and where the fuck our Grayson is. Cause if he’s in your universe and you’re some sweet cupcake…your family’s definitely in danger.”

Dick’s blood ran cold. Damian’s trust in him could be forever damaged. Tim would trust him without question—and easily be destroyed. Jason’s relationship with him could be fucked up even more. Not even going into his _friends_ and the superhero community at large—

“I got here roughly two hours ago. I haven’t seen another Dick Grayson. It seems like we switched places.”

“Yeah? What were you doing?”

Dick swallowed. “I was leading a mission. Secret. You guys—my team, the other versions of you, were there. I don’t know if they’re okay.”

Bruce had been counting on him. They all were. And now a sadistic and twisted Dick Grayson was there instead.

Bruce would catch on. He prayed he would catch on.

And Jason wouldn’t take shit from him. Maybe he’d protect the younger ones, if Dick was lucky. Cass hadn’t been on the mission, something he was cursing fate for. She would catch on the fastest—it would be like him suddenly having an accent, the difference in body language to her, he was sure.

Babs was at the desk. Maybe she’d notice—she knew him very well.

“Shit.” Jason whistled. “That’s pretty fucked up.”

He still seemed a little hesitant to trust that Dick was telling the truth. Dick had no doubt he’d slice his throat if he thought for sure he was tricking them, though. And he hadn’t yet.

“So. We gotta figure out for sure if our Grayson’s here, or if he’s there. Cause, if he’s here, we’re in for a shitstorm.”

Tim nodded solemnly, tracing the cover of the book. It seemed to give him comfort.

“Are…is Superman here? Is he…good?”

Jason shrugged. “Who fucking knows? We don’t see him. With Bruce’s Kryptonite protection systems, he just keeps out of our business. Bruce could shoot him out of the goddamn sky if he wanted—he worked pretty fucking hard on that shit. For like, a decade. He really doesn’t like the guy.”

“Okay. Anyone else we could turn to?”

He could see Tim giving a raised eyebrow look. He signed to Jason, and Jason responded, with a snort, “Yeah, he’s a nutcase. Look, Grayson, all we got standing against Bruce at this point is Penguin and his Aviary. I know that’s not what they call themselves, Tim, stop looking at me like that.”

“And…can they help us?”

“Help us what? We’re enemies.” Jason shrugged, and stood, rubbing Tim’s head affectionately. Tim seemed to put up with it.

He’d probably bite Dick or something if he tried to even get close, Dick got the feeling.

Dick sighed. “Well, I need to get home somehow. They need me. I need them.”

Jason shrugged again. “Kay. Let’s find our missing Grayson, then. Kiwi?”

Tim jumped up to his feet, and headed for the door. Jason followed him, and murmured to Dick, “We gotta get the big guns for that one, if he’s elsewhere.”

“Big guns?”

“Yeah. She’ll know.”

Dick let it go with a shrug. He’d find out. He couldn’t demand too much information, he felt, because they might get too suspicious with him. So he followed, Damian holding on to his arm like a security blanket.

Hopefully, the ‘big guns’ were somebody helpful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, yeah. The Finches are legit ish characters, but yeah, you'll see. Sorry for it being so weird, still coming off of food poisoning. Good times!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dick meets the 'Big Guns' and nearly gets himself in serious trouble.

‘The Big Guns’ turned out to be someone Dick definitely didn’t expect.

Selina Kyle looked up at him with an unimpressed brow raise, her chair making a slight creak as she pushed it back and stood. “Did you want something?”

Jason leaned forward on her desk…thing, and he spread his palms on it. “Hey, we just need information, kay?”

His tone suggested de-escalation of some kind, but it didn’t seem to be working.

Selina rolled her eyes. “Get out, I have things to do.”

Tim tapped the desk, getting her attention, and started signing away.

Selina looked almost reluctant, like she really didn’t want to get into the conversation, but soon enough, she was signing back, and that kind of solidified that she was working with or for Bruce. This Bruce, anyway. Dick got the sense his Bruce wouldn’t do something like that, because for Catwoman to be trustworthy in the same sense as the rest of them, he would have to control her somehow.

Much like this Bruce did with them.

Selina leaned back in her chair, murmuring, as her eyes took in Dick anew, “I see.”

“So, can you help us or not?” Jason said bluntly.

“You’ll owe me,” she said, but not the cattish way that Dick would expect. Her tone was serious, as were her eyes.

Jason glanced back towards Dick, and, strangely enough, Damian, and replied, “Yeah, I know. We already promised, kay?”

Selina nodded, and started tapping away at her keyboard. Her screens glowed in her eyes, her work fast, and Dick had to wonder how she ended up with this kind of work.

He knew Selina certainly knew a good deal about computers, since so many security systems and safes and so on were computerized. Back home, that meant she was a very effective thief. Here, it meant she worked for Bruce, evidently.

“So…are you Catwoman here?” 

He thought he asked with tact, but the sharp eyes directed towards him from everyone but Damian suggested not.

“I was a cat burglar, if that’s what you’re asking,” Selina said tightly. “Like Tim and Jason, and even you, I was plucked up to be used in this war he’s waging.” She looked thoughtfully down at a corner of her screen. “It’s one he’ll lose.”

Tim started signing again, and Selina sighed, looking at him.

“He can’t hear us here, I made absolutely certain. And who are you to talk about unnecessary danger?” 

Tim flushed, signed back something almost sheepishly.

“Kiwi has a point,” Jason said, “We don’t absolutely know that. And we don’t know Tiny or Time Tossed won’t repeat it.”

Damian pushed closer to Dick. He was apparently ‘Tiny.’

Selina huffed a sigh, and suddenly tossed Tim some kind of food in a wrapper; it make a loud crinkling noise when he caught. “Go on, eat. You’re getting too thin, Timothy.”

Tim tucked the bar or something into his pocket, signing back almost indignantly.

And Dick knew it was about the pizza, because even though Selina didn’t react as strongly, her eye still slid to him with a hint of suspicion and surprise. 

“I see. I apologize,” she said, “Still. Save it for later.”

Tim looked like he was complaining a little bit, hands moving extremely fast.

Jason suddenly put a hand on his shoulder, murmuring to him, and it sounded almost like an admonishment, because Tim stopped signing and started nibbling on what seemed to be a candy or chocolate protein bar.

Dick stood there a bit uncomfortably.

It was a couple minutes later that Selina had something for them. 

And that something was something that made Dick’s heart drop to the pit of his stomach.

“He’s clearly not in our universe. Our tracker would follow him anywhere he went, even if he was dead—unless he was completely incinerated, of course. He likely did switch places with you—provided you _are_ telling the truth, of course.”

Dick’s mind was racing. How could he warn his Tim and Damian and Jason and Bruce that they were in danger? His stomach started to roil, because he couldn’t imagine Tim not trusting him even at strange commands or what have you, and he could only imagine the look on Damian’s face, the, ‘ _Aha, I knew it all along, all people are bad, like I thought,_ ’ and the way he’d close off forever.

Jason might shoot that Dick. He could take some comfort from that.

Maybe.

At least that Jason wouldn’t trust him right off the bat if he started acting weird. Jason would be likely to defend the younger two from him, right? Jason had a thing about children. He hated to see them harmed. A lot. And that might make him act, besides which, he didn’t _really_ hate Tim anymore, and wouldn’t abandon him to an evil Dick Grayson—

“I said, look at me!” 

Jason’s furious shout brought Dick out of it, and he looked sharply at Jason. His brother looked furious, blue eyes blazing, and Dick realized he was standing somewhat between him and Tim and even Selina, as he demanded, “What fucking game are you playing, Grayson?”

Dick looked to Damian, who was clinging at this point, to Tim, who looked vaguely pale but guarded, to Selina, whose eyes were narrowed in suspicion.

“What do you mean, what game am I playing? I’m not playing any game, I’m from a different universe and I don’t know what’s going on!”

“Well, Dick Grayson, Take 2, I found your trackers.” Selina’s voice was sharp. “Almost destroyed, almost untraceable—dumped in the local swamp.”

Was the other him _dead_? That changed things a lot.

That was about when the suspicion caught up with him. “And you think I’m the one you know with an elaborate plan like that? Come on, I wouldn’t do that! Look at what I’ve done so far—“

“Thrown Tim off by giving him an odd food, wormed your way over to see Selina, oh, pretended to defy Bruce, messed with Tim in the field, messed with _me_ in the fucking house like you didn’t know what was going on—come on, Grayson, you think we’re fucking morons!” Jason’s voice was almost a snarl by the end.

“What is up with Tim and food?!” Dick blurted, unable to take the absurdity anymore.

“That’s it, I’m breaking your goddamn collarbone, you asshole—“

“No!” Damian shrieked, bursting into sobs, “No, don’t break his collarbone, please!”

“Goddamnit, you stupid brat!” Jason burst out at Damian, “He’s not protecting you, he’s _keeping_ you! How can you be so blind? He’s going to hurt you in ways you can’t even imagine!”

And that sent an unsettling lurch in Dick’s stomach. Jason couldn’t be implying what he thought…could he?

“Whoa, hold on! I’d never hurt Damian, or-or _Tim_ , god, I wouldn’t ever lay a hand—“

“Yeah, well, you did a bit more than that, you bastard!” Jason snarled. “I’m sick of Bruce giving you a free pass, it’s bullshit! Someone should have done something fucking years ago!”

“ _I’m not the Dick Grayson you know!_ ” Dick shouted at him, “I didn’t do any of the things you’re so furious about! Jason, why the fuck would I put myself in _this_ situation where I’m outnumbered and possibly outgunned if that was my aim? Think about it!”

Jason, miraculously, seemed to hesitate to do just that.

Selina’s mouth pinched, as she said, “We have no reason to believe you about anything, Grayson. Perhaps give us one?”

What kind of reason could he give?

He had no proof, no _nothing_ \--

His eyes suddenly locked on the brand mark on Jason’s face, and he suddenly started pulling off his shirt.

Damian moved away from him a bit, watching with bewilderment and some fear. He didn’t seem to understand what was going on.

The moment Jason and Selina’s eyes went to his chest, though, Dick knew he’d done the right thing. They exchanged looks, and suddenly went into a signed conversation, Tim joining in without having looked directly at Dick.

The silence was deafening, and Dick really hoped this meant they’d believe him.

Finally, Jason turned back. “We’re willing to believe you. A little bit. Tim and Selina both say getting rid of your brand would be extremely difficult, not to mention the different scars you have than our Grayson. So, you’re probably telling the truth.”

Dick let out a sigh of relief.

“But,” Jason cautioned, “I will fucking end you if you give me a reason to. Got me?”

“I got you. You’ve got nothing to worry about from me,” Dick responded. Damian latched around his waist again, somehow seeming even closer than before. It was strange, like even Damian knew that the other Dick Grayson was far more cruel and dangerous.

“Yeah, sure,” Jason muttered, “Just put your damn shirt back on.”

Dick did that.

Then he looked over at Selina. “Is there any way to find out how to get back? I need to protect my brothers from, well, the other me.”

Selina shrugged. “That would take a significant amount of time to find out, and require me tapping into my contacts. I can probably do it, but it won’t be fast, you understand?”

“I understand. Anything you can do, I would be grateful for.”

She tapped a pen against her lips. “You should be.”

That was slightly unsettling, but Dick figured whatever he had to do to get back would likely be worth it. 

And then Jason and Tim and Selina started beeping. It was clearly an alert of some kind, and Jason told him, “It’s the Birds. You have to come with us, or your cover’ll be blown.”

Tim was silently, solemnly following Jason, whereas Selina activated a couple more monitors with a serious look on her face. So, Dick told Damian, “Stay here, and stay out of trouble, okay?”

Damian nodded, a frightened look on his face, and he found a corner to hide in.

Then Dick took off after Tim and Jason and hoped to god this wouldn’t be anything more unusual than what he did as Nightwing back home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, life has been interesting in mostly the bad way, but I'm okay. It has meant less writing in general, though, so I apologize for how long this took.
> 
> Yesterday was my birthday and I didn't even cry or regret being born, so, good day, lol. Birthday parties with my family pretty much suck every time, but this party was with my BF's family and they don't shame people for being happy on their birthday, so it was cool.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dick meets the Finches, members of the resistance. And things take a dive. Again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Finches are, in essence, the Kabuki Twins from The Batman series. Look them up if you don't know them, but they're basically masked vaguely inhuman looking assassins or something from East Asia likely Japan. Not much was ever explained about them, and they kinda just disappeared. *shrugs*

The trip was fast, and yet too silent. Dick couldn’t quite describe the feeling, because they were already on the scene before he could think too long, but Tim’s eyes on the back of his head felt like they would burn a hole.

They arrived outside of a gray tower.

Jason whistled, and Dick could see a huge bird symbol emblazoned on the tower. “Wow. Think someone picked up some art skills?”

Tim glanced over at Jason’s grinning face, and made a couple hand signs. He seemed almost dismissive, very serious about the whole deal. He had his backpack, and he was swiftly setting up a spot just inside of a store doorway.

“What’s he doing? What are _we_ doing?” Dick asked, dreading an answer.

“Well, Kiwi there’s seeking out the Cardinal, cause if he can stop em, then we’re golden on the tech front. You and me, though? We’re facing the rest of the flock—don’t look at me like that, Tim.”

Dick watched Tim frown at Jason, and get back to work.

“Your job is to keep a perimeter around Tim until he takes Cardinal down. Then, you’ll join me stopping them from taking more tech and shit from the Wayne tower here.” Jason stepped forward, and Dick realized, rather startlingly, that Jason carried no guns. What he had were _escrima sticks._

And they crackled a little, as he stepped out. “One wrong move, Grayson,” he warned, and that was when he took off.

Tim scowled at Dick, and then set to work, tapping away with headphones on.

And that was when the people who simply must have been the Finches showed up.

Why was Dick so sure? Well, they were seemingly identical, dressed in pink, and clearly female. They wore masks that made him think of much prettier plague doctor masks, and oh, they had _blades_ for hands or something.

The first one came at him, and he dodged. Jason had had the courtesy to make sure he was armed, tossing him a bo staff that retracted like his Tim’s did back home, and he used this to block her blades.

Would they legit try to kill him? He wasn’t sure.

The other swung in, and neither were saying anything, but they worked in unison anyway.

“So, come here often?”

One tilted her head, as if to ask, ‘Is that supposed to be funny?’

The other swiped at his chest.

He thought he heard a huff from Tim.

“Or do you not do double dates?” Dick asked, feeling like that probably wasn’t terribly out of character.

They cartwheeled away in unison, a few feet and out of range of his bo staff. Dick pretended to be offended, saying,

“Was it something I said?”

He could hear Tim start tapping a moment, before apparently giving up on remembering that Dick didn’t understand at all.

And that was when one of them launched the other at him, and he had to block fast—fast enough that the other managed to escape his vision for a moment, and she slipped under his guard and slashed his knee and then managed to nick his thigh before he shoved her away.

It _hurt_ , unsurprisingly.

He could already feel the stickiness, but the adrenaline was helping as he navigated fighting the pair. They obviously knew what they were doing. They were lean, clearly muscular to some extent, and slightly above average in height.

There was a hiss from the one as he nailed her in the gut, sending her flying backwards. She still flipped herself right side up, landing in a crouch.

Dick was pretty sure these two didn’t exist back home, at least not in this...form? He didn’t know them at all, and he’d met a lot of martial artists like them.

“Hey, come on, how about we calm down and talk this out?”

Dick thought he could feel Tim’s incredulous look on the back of his head, and the beginning of tapping once again, but he ignored it—he couldn’t understand him anyway.

The one who hadn’t been pushed so far away tilted her head at him. Her masked face turned towards the other a moment, like they were communicating. They undoubtedly were.

“We...are willing to talk,” came the heavily accented voice—sounded Japanese, maybe. The one closer held her bladed hands up, and the one further took an unassuming position.

And Dick had to wonder if other him had ever offered to just talk. If this was entirely wrong. “Okay. I’m willing to talk too. Why don’t we put down our weapons and figure this out?”

Tim was tapping more frantically.

Maybe he should pay attention to Tim’s panic, but...if these were supposed to be the good guys, perhaps they’d be more help? Or, at least, they wouldn’t kill him. 

He was just kind of winging it now.

The blades came off the one’s fingers, delicately placed on the ground. He put down his bo staff and rolled it a little. Then the other one also removed her finger blades.

“So. Bruce—he’s pretty awful, huh?”

They exchanged looks once again.

The closer one spoke. “He has murdered many. Whether through direct choice or not.”

Dick nodded slowly. At least he was getting straight answers. “By direct decision...what do you mean?”

“These towers...they harm all of us,” came the response. “They must come down.”

“Is that what you’re doing? Blowing it up?”

“How do you not know this? Who are you?”

Dick considered a moment, and then said, “I’m not exactly the same Dick Grayson you know.”

“That is evident.”

He wondered if they’d somehow known from the beginning. If he fought or moved that differently.

He thought he heard a strangely hiccuping breath from behind him, and he looked back to see Tim was indeed frantically tapping on his microphone, but he looked like he was holding back _tears_. 

Which made no goddamn sense.

He thought maybe something had happened to Jason, and, without turning his back, he called to Tim, “Is Jason okay?”

Tim’s eyes took him in sharply, and he tremulously gave him a thumbs up.

Which still made no goddamn sense.

Dick looked back at the pair before him, and they still hadn’t made a move to attack. Which was good, right? 

“So. These towers—they do something pretty terrible.”

“Kryptonite poisoning is not a joke, Grayson,” came the response, an almost just slightly accusatory tone there. 

So, these towers must be what kept Superman out. He realized very acutely he wasn’t being very clever about this, that if he knew more, he could certainly get more information without looking like some time traveler or something, but...he wasn’t sure how. And he wasn’t sure what he was endangering, or why Tim was trying not to cry, or why the Finches weren’t attacking him.

“I agree, it’s not.” He considered next what to say. “So why do you stay if it’s so terrible?”

She tilted her head. “Not everyone can leave, Grayson.”

He suddenly realized she was starting to use an almost ‘talking to a toddler’ tone, and then asked,

“Why are you talking to me like this if we’re enemies?”

And the response was flat and chilling.

“If you are talking, you are not doing your job. Which means we are doing our job.”

And the tower exploded at that point, which made Dick dive to cover Tim from the flaming debris.

He’d fucked up.

He’d probably really big time fucked up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And I hope this all made sense? 
> 
> Also, Cardinal's identity will certainly be made known at some point, but you probably have a guess.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Misunderstandings might turn into murder, if Dick isn't careful.

Tim punched him in the eye.

That was the first of several blows that Dick registered, another being a kick to the ribs and a very painful slap to the ear.

He was holding said ear as Tim scrambled away from him, seemingly not the least bit grateful for having been covered and protected from the blast.

Which, actually, hadn’t hurt Dick as much as Tim had.

The Finches were gone. Dick could see that instantly. And it looked like Tim was about to be gone too, hightailing it down the street like it was his job. Dick almost couldn’t believe that Tim was abandoning Jason, who was probably inside, but he felt like he wouldn’t know how to even get home without the kid, so he took off after him.

“Tim! Hey! I’m not gonna—Tim! Slow down!”

Yeah, chasing him probably wasn’t the best way to calm him down, but it was all Dick had.

He was faster than Tim, and managed to catch the back of his jacket—which Tim almost seamlessly slid out of, leaving him holding it. However, Dick was fast enough to catch hold of his shirt, and that wasn’t something Tim could slip out of so fast, apparently.

“Tim, we have to go back for Jason--” he blocked Tim’s attempt to hit his neck, “Tim! Listen to me, Jason’s still in there, right?”

Tim’s teeth were quickly bared in a snarl, and he violently tried to wrench free of Dick’s hold.

But Dick knew how to counter pretty much anything he was trying, and it seemed this Tim just plain wasn’t as good at martial arts as his Tim was, because he didn’t get free.

His breathing was fast but heavy, panicking.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” Dick promised, trying so hard to look sincere—it was always harder to look sincere when you were actively thinking about not looking like a liar.

Which he wasn’t, but this Tim expected him to lie his ass off.

And now, in between the panicked breaths, this Tim was giving him the absolute most hate-filled look that Dick had ever seen. One that seemed to see straight through to his soul and want it burned forever.

In fact, the level of hatred startled Dick enough that he let go when Tim attempted to jerk free again, and Tim fell back against the brick wall—and picked up a piece of cinder block to throw at him.

He threw it, and Dick managed to dodge, but soon enough Tim was signing furiously at him.

Like he definitely expected him to be the Dick Grayson of this universe, and Dick could now be very sure Tim thought this had all been a ploy, an elaborate trick.

And it made him fear for his Tim, for his Damian, for everyone back home who could be vulnerable to his doppelganger.

He tried to look nonthreatening, saying softly, “Tim, I can’t understand you. I know you’re angry, but I didn’t do this on purpose. It’s not a trick.”

Another piece of cinder block flew at him, and Tim was crying, he realized, chest heaving.

And probably cussing him out.

He was probably doing that too.

“Please, just breathe. I’m not going to hurt you, and I’m sorry I chased you, okay?” 

Apparently, that definitely wasn’t enough, because another piece flew at him. And Tim was still backed up some against the wall.

Dick made more space between them, backing up and then squatting down. “I won’t hurt you. I promise.”

“Hey! Dickface, what the fuck?!”

Jason’s voice was a relief up until the point he looked more likely to attack him than Tim. “I knew you were still you. Fucking asshole, it just never ends with you, does it?!”

He was in between them now. And he was covered in sweat and soot, but very much alive.

“Jason, I’m not--”

“Yeah, fuck that! You thought you’d finally get me out of the picture, huh? Thought you’d have full control over Tim, Damian, and Helena with me gone, didn’t you?”

Helena? Who the fuck was Helena?

“No, that’s not what I was trying to do at all, I was just trying to figure out what--”

“Well, you know what I say? I say if murder’s on the fucking table, I really can’t think of a better way to stop you. Fuck Bruce, he’ll find someone new—Tim, I don’t give a fuck!”

Tim shrank, his tapping stopping.

“Whoa, wait!” Dick said, alarmed at the turn this was taking. “I wasn’t trying to kill you! I just didn’t know what was going on!”

“I don’t fucking care!” Jason shouted at him.

“Remember the scars I showed you? Or lack thereof? I’m not your Grayson!” Dick insisted. He had to get it through to Jason somehow, and he remembered what had convinced him before.

So, he was going to have to take a risk.

Jason had paused, but was clearly on the verge of attacking.

Dick took a breath, and dropped his arms. He left himself wide open for attack, looking at Jason meaningfully. “I’m not your Grayson. If you really think I am, if you’re _absolutely_ sure, shoot me. But your Grayson will be back, or, he might bring back trouble with him. I don’t know how he switched us, but neither do you. If you can be one hundred percent certain I’m him, then go ahead.”

He’d probably gotten too speechy. He’d probably gone on too long.

Tim was tapping again, breaths coming fast like sobs.

And Jason was still, was quiet, like he was considering. Like he had to weigh what he knew and what he saw and what he thought.

Dick really hoped he wasn’t about to die.

Jason let out an angry sigh. “You almost got me fucking killed.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know,” Dick responded, not sure if he should relax yet.

Jason looked back to Tim, who switched over to signing very fast and shaky. Jason’s eyes narrowed a moment as he looked back at Dick, and Dick really hoped that it didn’t mean he’d decided it was time to kill him.

“Tim says you shielded him from the blast. Which isn’t exactly outside of your—other you’s MO, but...” He seemed to be wrestling with the idea of whether or not their Dick Grayson could do this. Would be capable of pulling this off.

Dick wasn’t a strategic genius. He wasn’t bad at it, but he also wasn’t a fan of the whole crazy chessmaster thing. That was more Tim’s side of things.

“Fuck it. I don’t know if you’re ours or not, but either way, one less Grayson can’t be a bad thing,” Jason said, and he drew a gun, aiming it at Dick.

“Wait! Just one moment, think about--”

“I don’t need to think about it anymore, Dick,” Jason responded.

Tim had covered his ears.

This was happening.

“Jason--”

“What?” Jason suddenly was speaking into his comm, his gun still trained on Dick, but not quite the same intent to shoot. “Are you serious?”

He continued on, “You’re absolutely certain? No mistake?”

He holstered the gun, which Dick realized was kept somewhat less in easy reach than the escrima sticks. In fact, it was very well hidden.

He looked over at Dick. “Well. Dick Grayson, Take 2, looks like Selina found our Grayson. You lucked out.”

“I’d be more lucky if I was home,” Dick replied, feeling a little like he might fall down.

So he was going to live...and his universe did have an evil Dick Grayson in it.

Suddenly, he felt less relieved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if this makes no sense. Been sick for like a week now after a severe asthma attack. Good times, 11/10 would recommend. DX


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dick gets to live, but the other him may be a big threat.

The drive home was...tense. Dick could tell that Tim and Jason’s bike was slightly overloaded with both of them and Tim’s equipment on it, but he got the sense, especially from the tight way Tim was holding, that it was sort of the way it had to be. It wasn’t about the best way to do it in a logistical sense.

They arrived outside the tower that Selina lived in. The door slid open to Jason, and Dick couldn’t help but notice how close Tim was hovering.

Jason still had some burns going on. They weren’t serious, more reddened skin than anything else, and his body looked beat up. The explosion hadn’t treated him well, but Dick would guess that he hadn’t been in the middle of it.

He wondered if he’d known to get out soon enough, or if he simply hadn’t been inside the tower. It was hard to tell. He also had some bruises forming, and that could be from fighting. Again, it was hard to tell for sure.

Selina was up there when they got there. There was also a girl curled in her lap, and Dick could see the resemblance to both Selina and Bruce instantly.

The girl was perhaps a few years younger than Damian, and said boy was currently holding a kitten and sitting near Selina’s chair on the floor. Dick could just make him out around the desk. He seemed much calmer than before.

“Timothy,” Selina said first, on taking in his clearly disheveled appearance. Tim petulantly moved closer to Jason, evidently not in a trusting mood.

“Well? Where is that bastard?” Jason said, cutting off whatever conversation Selina might have attempted to have with Tim. 

Selina pursed her lips a moment, then smoothed back the girl’s hair. She was looking at each of them with very intelligent, bright blue eyes, and it made Dick think distinctly of a young kitten. The way they explored, but still were often pretty clever.

“The motherfucker appears to have just...shown up. His destroyed trackers are still where they were, but there was a literal portal opened up not far from where Helena normally is. Where he is now, I don’t know, but he’s definitely not this one.” She gestured with her chin towards Dick.

“How do you know he used a portal?” Jason demanded.

Selina wordlessly swiveled her screen around, and there was a security camera footage timed from not a half an hour ago.

It was a calm, grayish coloring until suddenly, a large glowing _thing_ appeared, and through it, stepped someone who looked an awful lot like him. Dick was staring, but his heart didn’t really feel the panicked jolt until he realized two more people were with him.

Damian was being carried by the other him, slumped like he was sleeping. The other was Tim, Red Robin as wary as ever and cautiously following, but clearly not wary of the other Dick. He was watching their surroundings so closely, whole body clearly on edge. He also looked somewhat confused, at least to Dick.

“No,” he breathed, suddenly terrified.

The portal closed. The other Dick looked to Tim, _his_ Tim, saying something and gesturing ahead. Again, in a cautious way, Tim followed.

“Shit, is that--”

“It’s Tim. It’s my Tim,” Dick said, “And my Damian.”

_And he has them_ was the clear panic in his voice.

Jason was looking sharply at him, with a weird look in his eyes. Like some pieces of the puzzle had clicked together.

Tim was signing frantically. The other Tim, that is, things that Dick couldn’t decipher even if a roaring static wasn’t filling his ears. He felt almost like he couldn’t breathe, and then demanded, completely ignoring what the others might be saying, “Where?!”

They all looked at him sharply.

“Where are they?” he repeated. 

“This is not current footage,” Selina said, “So I can’t tell you precisely. I can tell you where this area they were in was, though.” 

She seemed to almost be waiting for Jason to give it the okay. Like two go aheads were necessary, like a nuclear launch in movies or something.

“Yeah, I’m coming with you,” Jason said. “This fucker needs an ass-kicking five years ago.”

Selina laid out the coordinates.

“Tim,” Jason said, turning to him. Tim was still signing at him, almost seeming to insist on something. “I’ll be back, I promise. I get it, I know. But just cause that’s his plan doesn’t mean it’ll work, and I’m relying on you and Selina to keep this place safe in the meantime. Kay?”

Tim stomped his foot, uncharacteristically like a toddler. 

“I will be back,” Jason insisted. “It’ll be okay. I got Dick Grayson, Take 2 watching my back, what could go wrong? Tim, that was rhetorical.”

Tim was still arguing. Even Dick could tell.

Jason suddenly cupped Tim’s face—it was like grabbing it, but not in a violent or terrifying way. He said, voice very calm, “Tim, listen to me, okay? He’s not gonna get me, and he’s not gonna get you. I promise. I will not let him. And if I go down, the fucker’s going with me, got me?”

Tim stilled, but still didn’t seem too happy with all of it. He suddenly squeezed Jason’s wrists in what Dick might characterize as a low-body-contact hug, and that was when Jason let go.

“Okay. We’re off,” he informed Dick.

Dick nodded, and he could see the other Damian watching him cautiously. He didn’t come forward, though, so Dick left.

He felt sort of bad about it, but he had to protect his brothers.

As much as it hurt his mind, this Damian was not the same one at all, and the one that was his brother was out there in the hands of someone who would undoubtedly hurt him—and likely already had.

–

The air was cold and crisp. It was getting to be towards the end of the day, and the way the brightness had faded really showed that.

Dick was following Jason, since he knew the best way to get there. He did live here, after all.

Suddenly, his helmet crackled to life. “We got company.”

Dick tilted his head a little to see they did indeed, but not who they were hoping to find: the Finches and some other figures were following along, silent as possible, sneaky as possible.

Dick gritted his teeth, suddenly angry that they’d show up _now._ Damian and Tim were in danger, he didn’t have time to deal with a conflict that had nothing to do with him!

But deal with them he would have to, he realized, as a blue figure swooped down out of the sky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long! It's kinda been my life lately. DX
> 
> I hope you enjoyed it and that it makes sense!


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dick finally meets the Aviary.

The figure in blue nearly knocked Dick off his bike, and he had to swerve sharply to only take a glancing blow. It didn’t seem to bother the figure much, who was not to be underestimated, Dick quickly realized—they, she, it seemed, flipped onto a passing van and effortlessly continued the acrobatics to stay near him.

She would make a pass again, he realized.

“Fuck off!” he heard Jason snap, as a figure in purple assaulted him from a distance with what appeared to be a...slingshot? Something like that, but clearly more powerful. And now the Finches were going for Jason in unison.

They all had bird facemasks.

Very suddenly, there was a computerized sort of voice in his helmet, stating, “Bluebird says that you’re acting very frantic. Is there a reason, Grayson?”

His mind supplied, _Cardinal._ “None of your business,” he growled, dodging Bluebird on the rebound attack.

She missed, but...it was almost like she intended to miss.

And it clicked where he’d seen that movement, that style of attack, before. “Cass?”

There was silence for a moment, and he was suddenly fairly certain he’d figured out Bluebird’s identity, a sort of horrified thudding in his chest at the idea of battling her—and him not meaning anything good to her.

“Is there a reason you’re speeding as much as you are? Leaving town?” Cardinal’s monotone voice demanded.

And could he even give an honest response without it all going to shit? Dick pondered this a moment, dodging Cass yet again, and again, she seemed to let him. 

“I’m trying to save my brothers,” he finally said, “The Grayson you know has them.”

If he was betting right, Cass would see he wasn’t lying. She might not hear him, maybe, she might not know what he was saying, but perhaps it would make sense. He didn’t see what it could hurt. But then, that had been his thought for a wide space into this, and he was pretty sure he was bringing Bruce’s empire down piece by piece.

Was that for the worst, though?

There was still silence. Then, “What do you mean, the Grayson we know?”

“I’m not from this universe,” Dick said, feeling weirdly like he’d been given a chance. Like a door had been opened. “Your Grayson has my brothers from my universe, and I don’t intend to let him hurt them. Not like he did here.”

It sounded like sheer skepticism coming through his comm. But Cass wasn’t attacking, only keeping up as best she could.

“If this is true,” Cardinal stated, “Then we’ll help you. But you have to allow Bluebird and the Finches to take you now.”

It was a gamble of huge proportions, but Dick could see why they would make it. If he was lying, he certainly wouldn’t want to be captured. But if he was telling the truth, he’d make an excellent ally. Presumably, anyway.

He thought about Jason. About how he’d immediately hopped on his bike to help him, or at least to take out the Grayson he hated. Should he just leave him?

But Cass...he could trust _her_ , right? Even before she was Batgirl, she had morals. Cass was not someone easily molded or swayed. He had his reservations about her at times, but if it was between her and someone else…?

He made his decision. Damian and Tim came first. “Okay.”

Cass had hooked under his arms and taken him from the moment he gave the affirmative. Now, he could hear Jason shout over the comm, saying, “For fuck’s sake, fight back! Goddamnit!”

He was up in the air—and thrown.

If he’d been anyone but himself, he was certain he was would have been freaking out at whistling through the air with nothing touching him or stopping him from falling. But he could see the Finches appear to catch his hands, and he worked with them like he would other acrobats.

One threw his helmet off his head. The other had him on his feet on a building top.

Then Bluebird, Cass, landed next to them. And then the purple one showed up as well.

And it turned out she was talkative, unlike the other three. 

“Okay, let’s get him back to Cardinal,” she chirped, but she turned on Dick all of a sudden, informing him, “You better hope you’re not lying, cause they _will_ dismember you, and that’d really suck for everyone involved.”

_Stephanie._

He didn’t think the Finches had a counterpart he knew in his world, but evidently, both Cass and Stephanie were in the opposition here. He could rest just a little easier.

“I’m not lying,” he assured her. “But I need to get to the other Grayson _fast._ ”

“And we’ll get you to Cardinal fast,” Stephanie assured him. “ID: Magpie.”

A side of another building shimmered away, and they dragged him into the entrance. And the inside was as high tech and well designed as anything he’d seen from Oracle--

Including the wheelchair ramp and Barbara Gordon herself seated at the desk.

“Grayson,” she greeted, none of the warmth that he would normally expect. And he shouldn’t expect it; they were enemies here.

“Gordon,” he replied, “Or should I call you Cardinal?”

She surveyed him a moment, then stated, “Where are your brothers being kept by our Richard Grayson?”

He was able to spit out the coordinates fast. He was very lucky Cass was evidently so trusted that they didn’t feel the need to further vet him.

The girls were taking off their masks as Barbara found the location.

Cass had dark but sharp, innocent eyes still, even here. She was taking him in with maybe a slightly amused curiosity.

Stephanie was as blue-eyed as ever, face seeming to positively sparkle as she leaned over Barbara’s shoulder to see the screen. “Almost there, right?”

The Finches, whose names he didn’t know, were seemingly twins. They looked very slightly different at best, dark, solemn eyes on him, and very short hair peeking out from under their hoods.

As they pulled them down, he could see that it had been cut almost to a crew cut. The one was surveying him, and there was such a lack of Cass’s curiosity in the way he was being silently watched. More of a tired wariness, almost a warning.

The other went to see the screen as well.

Cass very suddenly answered his question. “Yuka. Ayaka.”

The one watching him was Yuka, evidently, and the other was Ayaka, leaning over to see the screen.

Yuka frowned, but said nothing, again. 

“We’ve got him.”

Dick turned towards the screen too, and was shocked to see it wasn’t the coordinates he put in, but the feed seemed to be live. “How--”

“Better technique and tools,” Barbara responded. “Time to suit up.”

He could make out something, the other him was uncomfortably close to his Tim, and Damian was standing, conscious, thank god. He was...on lookout? And Tim appeared to have some sort of device in his hands.

Were they... _helping_ him?

“Ride with Cass,” Barbara commanded Dick, not sparing another look his way.

“Almost?” Cass asked, seemingly not related. Barbara’s eyes suddenly flickered to Dick, and she said, almost cautiously. “Yeah.”

Cass seemed delighted with this news.

“Almost what?” Dick asked, but Barbara gave him a severe look. 

“Do you want to save your brothers or not?”

He clenched his teeth. “It’d be nice to know what’s happening.”

“It would, wouldn’t it,” Barbara agreed, looking back at her screen, seemingly dismissing him. The feed continued to play, and he could see the other Dick leaning over Tim’s shoulder to point things out on the device, still so casually close. Like he deserved to have that level of trust from Tim.

Damian was turning back to report.

He couldn’t wait too long.

With a held in huff, he climbed into Cass’s vehicle. And hoped to god he’d made the right decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PTSD things have been worse of late, but it's helped to have the spark going on this one again. :)
> 
> I hope it makes some sense, but yeah, the Finches are the strange, unnamed ninja-like ladies from The Batman series back in the early 2000's. I always liked them.
> 
> And I hope to have another chapter up in a timely manner. :)


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Dick Grayson of this universe is slipperier than an eel.

Dick didn’t seem to recall the Cass of his universe being particularly good at driving, but this one was. She easily swerved and sped her way to the other Dick Grayson, closer and closer to both Tim and Damian.

Dick’s skin itched, tingled. He needed to protect them, and he knew both would balk at the idea they needed his protection, but the fear at losing them, or seeing them harmed, was too strong to allow otherwise.

The vehicle cut off before they reached them. Cass held up a finger to her lips, and he could see the Finches take up positions. He couldn’t see Steph, but he doubted that was because she was stealthier or something. The area was just ahead, and he could faintly make out voices.

“...that’s it. Sorry, I knew you had it,” he could hear, eerie, his own voice. 

A noise of affirmation. Tim. “It’s okay. I’m not picking up any additional signs of radiation, so no sign of what snatched you yet. I’m going to try a different frequency.”

_Snatched_ him? What lie had the other him spun? And that Tim and seemingly Damian would fall for it…

Dick was not at ease, to say the least.

“Nightwing.” Damian’s voice nearly had Dick lurching in his direction, the tone a signal. But he was talking to the other Grayson, and it was sickening to listen to.

He started to move forward, but Cass put a hand on his shoulder. She gave a minute shake of the head. _Not yet._

He wanted to move. He wanted to move very badly. As he got some sight on what his counterpart was up to, he knew he wouldn’t be able to hold back for much longer.

He was just marching back from Damian after a very business-like nod to see what Tim had found on the device. “I think if we can figure out what took me, we can figure out how it went so wrong back on the mission.”

Tim nodded briefly, absorbed in meddling with the device.

The other Grayson moved closer, seeming to almost drape himself over Tim’s shoulders as he peered at the screen. “Found anything yet? The letters are small, but it looks like--”

“No, it’s not magic-related. At least, not any magic we know about and can detect, which at least rules out several people. I don’t think that anyone we were working against could have done this, but then, I thought it might go deeper.”

“Ra’s?”

Tim’s eyes flickered, head tilting slightly towards Damian. Dick could read the slightly protective, yet unsure, expression easily. “Could be. Could also be several other people, but Ra’s isn’t above meddling.”

_Stop letting him lean on you,_ Dick wanted to scream, never before having really comprehended the great trust Tim put in him. He’d known, and yet, to see it this way really brought the idea home.

He was touching Tim’s hair, saying, “Tim, have you even combed your hair since I’ve been gone?”

And Tim let him. “It doesn’t matter. I’ll comb it later.”

“So much hair on your head, and yet, no grizzle yet,” Other Dick commented, feeling Tim’s face. 

Tim let out an annoyed sound, moving his head a fraction to concentrate on the device. “I’m trying to work.”

“I’m wounded, Tim. I nearly died, you know,” Other Dick said, and that was when his eyes abruptly connected with Dick’s. Like he’d known he was there all along.

Dick found himself frozen, staring into blue eyes exactly like his own—like his own, but terrifying. The eyes weren’t those of a serial killer or evil villain, like he’d hoped, but they were his. They seemed almost mirthful at being watched, like he’d been teasing him. There was some sort of _delight_ there, and he looked like, if it wouldn’t give him away, he’d make some sort of terrible quip.

“Grayson!” Damian shouted suddenly.

Other Dick dove, taking Tim with him and shouting, “Tim! Look out!”

That was when the Finches were moving in on Damian’s side, and Dick went rushing out as well. Cass leapt past Dick, and as far as Dick could tell, there’d never been anything coming at Tim.

Said brother of his looked slightly dazed and confused, for a moment, but was swiftly already trying to struggle to his feet. “Nightwing, we have to--”

Damian was dutifully holding off both Finches, something was clearly taking his all. They wouldn’t hurt him...right? Dick was struck with the fact he didn’t really know that, and so broke off from Cass to run towards Damian.

“Stay down!” Other Dick ordered Tim, and Dick couldn’t look to see why, instead tackling Damian.

Damian snarled at him, not realizing who he was, and slashed his shoulder with his knives. 

“Dami, stop!” Dick said, and _that_ made Damian absolutely freeze. 

“Grayson…? How...get off!” He got his legs positioned to flip Dick, and did so, landing on top of Dick. He looked furious, immediately clawing at Dick’s face as he pinned him with his legs.

“Dami, it’s me—Ow!”

“No mask,” Damian murmured. He was staring at Dick now, eyes a desperate question, looking for answers. He seemed to be teetering on the edge of who was Dick Grayson and who was not.

“Damian, listen, the other me is an imposter,” Dick said fast, not knowing how long he would have to convince Damian. “He’s me, but from this dimension--”

“Nice try. We know you took him captive and stole his face,” Damian growled, face harder than before. “If it weren’t for Father’s policy--”

“Damian, I am the original! There was no face stealing— _the bat is in the belfry._ ” It was a code they’d come up with as a signal that they were who they said they were, back when they were the dynamic duo. They hadn’t had a lot of use for it, but he would bet that Damian remembered it.

Damian went absolutely still, and then, breathed out softly, “Drake.”

He was up and off of Dick immediately, turning towards the Other Dick and Tim. Dick was on his feet to join him, and what he saw didn’t look good.

Cass was unconscious. _Cass_ was _unconscious._ The Finches weren’t in sight. He hadn’t seen Stephanie at all.

And Other Dick was still standing, looking over at them. And Dick didn’t dare move towards him, seeing the knife pressed against Tim’s neck.

Tim, for his part, looked pretty pissed at being a hostage.

“If you were the real Dick Grayson,” Other Dick said, “You would let me leave with Red Robin and Robin. You wouldn’t want me to harm them.”

“I am Dick Grayson,” Dick said, not moving an inch towards Tim and Other Dick. “Let my brother go.”

He could see, in Tim’s eyes, that he was weighing and calculating all he’d learned the past couple minutes at lightning speed. He needed to give him time to plan.

“No. Return Damian, now.” Other Dick was acting like he was trying to gambit his way into protecting both of them; Dick knew enough to know that he was trying to gambit his way into possessing both of them. There was a difference. “If you actually cared, you’d return Damian immediately.”

“This would be much funnier without a knife against my neck,” Tim commented, face pale down to his lips.

“This isn’t funny!” Damian snapped, body like a wire pulled taut, “Let Red Robin go!”

“Damian, it’s okay,” Other Dick assured, “Trust me. Come over here.”

Damian seemed near growling in his fury, as he snarled, “You tricked me, you _lied_ \--”

“Dami, I didn’t lie,” Other Dick said, voice softly shocked. “I would never lie to you. We were partners.”

How did he know that? Dick wondered how much Other Dick knew, but he very carefully stuck out an arm in front of Damian. “I don’t know what you hope to gain from this,” he said, meeting the other Dick’s eyes, “But if it went wrong with the first Tim, I can promise you, it will go worse this time.”

That was when Other Dick’s eyes narrowed, and he said, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, and if you’re trying to scare them, it’s not going to work. They know about the face-stealing going on here, and they know what I escaped from.”

He said it with enough conviction that Dick was temporarily dumb-founded. He had a brief moment of wondering if he could be wrong.

This gave Other Dick a chance to continue. “You’re pretending that you care, and that they’d be okay if they came to you, but I know the truth—even death is better than being taken again.”

“Dick,” Tim murmured, voice very soft, and Dick realized he wasn’t talking to him, “Just take a deep breath, okay? No one’s taking you.”

“Tim--” Dick started in alarm, not sure who believed what now.

“I can’t relax until Damian is _safe_ ,” Other Dick said back. “Please. Damian, I don’t want you to be tortured.”

Damian seemed extremely torn, which sent a rather frantic patter to Dick’s chest. Whether or not this Dick believed himself, it was _dangerous._ And Dick was suddenly doubting his ability to convince them it was him, for real.

“Please. Damian,” Other Dick pleaded.

And Damian started to move forward, and that was when Dick made the stupidest move he could have.

“No!” he reached out in a panic to grab Damian.

Damian evidently took this as confirmation that Other Dick was right, and booked it. 

Other Dick immediately released Tim from the hold, knife clattering to the ground to wrap a protective arm around Damian. Dick felt like his heart was evaporating, and started to race after them.

He was sloppy. He was panicked. He was shouting—and then the hiss of gas was his main warning before he was taken out too.

His last image was a wink from Other Dick.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this makes sense. I do not feel good.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Other Tim finds Dick, and things go south from there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: this is a disturbing chapter for the following reasons: attempted murder, attempted mutilation, and justification of abuse.

Dick’s first waking thought was: _He has them._

And he was already attempting to stand long before he had a sense of where he was. He registered hands pushing him down, and tried to fight them, only to get slapped across the face.

A knee pushed into his chest, and he finally got a slightly bleary picture of who was pinning him.

_Tim._

A wide-eyed Tim, one that seemed nearly as frightened of him as he was mad at him. One that wasn’t speaking.

And the relief seemed to evaporate as he realized this wasn’t his Tim.

“Okay, okay, I’m staying still,” he said softly, suddenly even less sure how to handle this Tim. 

Tim was repeating one sign over and over again, a demanding, frantic look on his face. And all too suddenly, Dick realized what he was looking at: ASL, the finger alphabet for the letter ‘J.’ 

J...J…Jason. Of course.

Shit. 

“I don’t know where Jason is.”

This was not good enough for Tim, and he slapped Dick in the face again. He was glaring, and Dick realized this was an interrogation, even if it was on the asphalt he landed on.

It was difficult to breathe with Tim’s knee on his chest, but thank god Tim was not nearly as heavy as Bruce or Jason. He wouldn’t be able to breathe _at all_ with them on his chest unless they took special care not to suffocate him.

His face stinging, Dick said, “I don’t have time for this, Tim. Get off me.”

The withering glare he got in return might as well have been a vocal _’You better make time.’_ But the truth was, Dick really didn’t have time for this. He needed to find his Tim and Damian and protect them from whatever Other Dick’s game was.

Tim made a hissing noise through his teeth at Dick when he tried to stand. Dick continued anyway, and found himself a little more pinned than he’d thought.

His legs had been bound in chain, something sort of rusty, and then lashed well around a cement post. The rattling of the chains made Tim’s eyes narrow, and he hit his face again, and then pressed his knee sharply into Dick’s chest, making an agonizing moment of both not being able to breathe and being in pain.

“I swear to god, Tim, I don’t know where Jason is!” Dick snapped back. 

Tim made a talky hand, then pointed at him severely. The motion seemed to mean, ‘Get talking.’

He mentally catalogued that his wrists were also bound in the chain, and it felt sturdy. This Tim tried not to take chances if he didn’t have to. He supposed that wasn’t an unfair thing to say about his Tim either, who was still in the clutches of the monster who did this to this Tim.

The thought made him want to puke, but he had to focus on getting out of here. “Where’s Bluebird?”

The look Tim gave him was obviously ‘I don’t care.’ He signed ‘J’ again.

“Okay, Jason and I were on our way here when we were ambushed by the Aviary,” Dick said, “Then, honestly? I went with them because I thought it would help me rescue my brothers, since your Dick has them. I don’t know where Jason is, but he was fine when I left.”

He really, really hoped blunt honesty was the way to go with this Tim. He wasn’t sure how to convince anyone who had had contact with the Other Dick, and he didn’t know how to convince someone who had so clearly been harmed so much by someone with his face.

This Tim was watching him with dark eyes. Angry ones, honestly, but Dick wasn’t sure what else to tell him. He started digging in his pockets, things seeming to clack and clatter around.

“What are you doing?” Dick asked cautiously.

This Tim’s nose wrinkled in angry disgust at him, and he used his free hand to yank down the front of his own shirt, exposing the mess of scarring.

That was very not good.

“Tim,” Dick said, trying very, very hard to remain calm. “I don’t want to hurt you, and I don’t want you to hurt me. _You_ don’t want to hurt me.”

Tim spat at him.

That was a very, very bad sign.

“I’m not your Dick Grayson! You _saw_ the other Dick Grayson, you know that I’m telling you the truth!” Dick protested, trying still to remain unfrantic.

Tim wielded a scalpel and what appeared to be just a normal knife. He switched both to one hand to sign ‘J’ at him again, insistently. Like this was his last chance to tell him where the hell Jason went, and if only Dick knew.

If only he could tell him.

“Tim, I don’t know where he is, but I know where to start looking,” Dick said, fast, “There was an Asian market, there was a licquor store, there was a fast food--”

Tim lifted the blades.

It was then that slow clapping interrupted the conflict.

“Very nice, Timmy, good job,” came Dick’s own tones, but they were tones that chilled him to the bone.

Evidently, they had a similar effect on this Tim, as the blades clattered to the ground and he turned white as a sheet.

“Where, indeed, is JJ?” And now Other Dick came into view, walking almost casually, blue eyes merry and sharp as glass. He looked across the small area, and commented, “Seems almost like he’s nowhere near here, huh?”

“Tim,” Dick breathed softly, “Unchain me.”

But Tim seemed to think the better option was to run, and he jumped up to his feet and made to dash.

Other Dick was faster, seizing him by first the back of his shirt, and then his neck. All Dick could hear was huffs of terrified breath and the scrabbling of shoes on the ground as Other Dick dragged this Tim back his way.

Dick was silent, twisting to see what was happening, icy terror coursing through his veins.

“Funny how much we all rely on Jay, huh?” Other Dick said, “Even I rely on him more than I used to. I’m relying pretty heavily on him not being here right now.”

Tim struggled, but Other Dick had him by the neck. He was already turning quite red in the face. His feet were scraping the ground rather uselessly as Other Dick hauled him up higher, right against the cement post that Dick was chained to.

Dick struggled with the chains, saying, “Hey! Stop!”

Tim was clawing at Other Dick’s hand, but the hand was sheathed in a thick leather glove. His eyes were wider than Dick would have thought possible.

Other Dick smiled at Tim. “I really am sorry it has to be this way. If there was any way I could trust you enough to keep you around, I would.” There was something weirdly wistful in his tone and eyes. “You have to know, I would.”

“Stop it, you’re killing him!” Dick shouted, struggling enough that the chains were rattling violently. This Tim was lethally good at restraints, and he was having little success in breaking free.

“I know,” Other Dick replied, eyes eerie as they turned towards Dick for a moment. “But silence isn’t enough anymore. And if you think it doesn’t--” he slammed an arm across Tim’s chest, pinning his arms. “If you think this means nothing to me, you’re wrong.”

Dick thought he would vomit. The panic was racing through him as Tim was turning colors he should not be, as his face was becoming tinged with blue. His struggling was starting to get feebler as well.

“Goddamnit, let him go!” Dick nearly screamed at Other Dick, “You’re a monster!”

At that, Other Dick’s eyebrows rose, and he miraculously dropped this Tim. Tim was wheezing, gasping on the ground.

“ _I_ am a monster?” Other Dick seemed surprised by this. He pinned Tim to the ground with his foot. “Me? Really?”

“Yes, you! How can you do this to him? How can you hurt _kids_ and people who trust you?” Dick demanded, having loosened the chain around his hands. Only a bit longer, and he’d be free.

“It’s what people do. Believe me or not, but I’m very kind. I gave Timmy here everything he could want...and do you know what he did?” Other Dick’s eyes narrowed, and he pushed his foot more forcefully against Tim’s back, and in between wheezes for breath, Dick could see Tim’s shoulders shake with sobs.

“He turned on me. He rejected me and everything I’d ever done for him. It was like a stab in the heart, Dick,” Other Dick said, eyes weirdly damp. “He was ungrateful, he even started acting like my touch was _poison!_ I have only _ever_ loved him, protected him from _Bruce_ , and how the hell can he act like being touched and loved is some horrific sacrifice he can’t make?!”

Dick’s throat was dry. This was not the response he’d expected. This was more like some deranged, spurned lover than anything, and it made him want to throw up. “What does ‘touched and loved’ mean, Richard? Answer me that, and then you should know why Jason and Tim want nothing to do with you.”

Other Dick’s face turned near purple with rage. _”I am not the bad guy!”_ he screamed at Dick. “ _He_ rejected _me_ , when Bruce would have tortured him into submission, when he could have died anywhere else—I did him a favor he could never repay, and he treated it like a curse!”

“If you love him, why would you do this to him? Look at him, he’s fucking terrified!” Dick shouted back, throat hurting. 

Other Dick glared back at him, eyes strangely cloudy. “He did this to me first. And now, things will be right.”

He unholstered a gun, and pointed it at Tim’s head. “Now, I get to start over.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this makes sense. What Cass was referring to before will become clearer in the next chapter, as this place might as well be called Jericho.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evil Bruce.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I lied. Next chapter is when what Cass said will make some sense.

“No, you don’t.”

The words were spoken with an eery detachment, the gruffness of Batman, but with a spine-chilling lack of humanity.

The Bruce of this world stalked in, and Dick could make out his eyes, blue but steely and full of condescending pity for Other Dick.

“Bruce. Nice of you to show,” Other Dick said, but there was a minute tremble in his voice that betrayed that this was not the way he’d planned for this to go.

Tim struggled under his boot, gravel scraping in the silence, but then Other Dick pushed sharply on Tim’s back again, and with a forced huff of air, he went more still.

“It is, isn’t it? I thought it would be appropriate to thank you personally,” Bruce said, a smile crossing his face that was much like the one he gave the paparazzi, but ice cold.

Other Dick seemed as confused as Dick for a moment—before uttering. “No. _No._ You can’t--”

“Richard, Richard, _Richard,_ ” Bruce said, clicking his tongue and shaking his head. “Do you really suppose I don’t know what’s happening in my own house? And did you really think you had hiding places I wasn’t aware of?”

Dick was loose, could spring free at any time, but wasn’t sure when would be best to do so. He wanted to be sure he wouldn’t be shot, or that Tim wouldn’t be.

Reasonably sure, anyway. In this sort of scenario, he didn’t have high hopes of things go ideally.

Other Dick’s hand with the gun was shaking. “They’re mine. You can’t just take them!”

_Tim. Damian._ Bruce had to have captured them, and an icy fear rose in Dick’s chest. What if they were hurt? What if they were _dead?_

“Actually, I already have. And I managed to nab some birds on my way,” Bruce said, “All in all, it was a fantastic hunt. Soon enough, I may not even need you.”

He probably had this world’s Cass, and maybe Steph, or those two whose names he was blanking on—or even Barbara. He could have any number of people from this world.

Other Dick’s shoulders were heaving, a sort of naked honesty that Dick hadn’t seen him display with the others. He must have been glaring, though Dick couldn’t see his face. “You’ll _always_ need me,” he insisted.

“Will I?” Bruce questioned. “I own you, I can throw you away or I can keep you, as long as I want. At the moment, though, once I’ve broken them down to obedience, I can see myself having a number of far more capable foot soldiers.”

Dick slipped free of the chains then, kicking the gun out of Other Dick’s hand while he was too distracted to stop him. “You can’t—I won’t let you hurt Tim and Damian!”

Other Dick was looking back at him, a sort of shock across his face. He could see this Tim had managed to turn his head as well, one blue eye on him with a sort of anxiety. He was still breathing like he was struggling to do so normally.

His head hurt, Dick noted.

This Bruce was eyeing him with interest, and Dick wondered what could have killed the empathy in this man. The hidden, precious empathy that powered the man he knew. And he also wondered what could have broken him in this world.

He had a lot of questions.

“I believe I know which world you’re from,” finally came the shocking pronouncement from Bruce.

“What?” Dick said this at the exact same time as Other Dick, startling him. 

This Bruce smiled like an evil schoolteacher explaining something to very dumb students. “How could I have possibly known who would have the most value otherwise? I have observed other universes, and in all of them, Dick Grayson is the most vital to me.” 

Other Dick had paled, like he hadn’t realized he wasn’t the first to use the technology.

“And you thought you could outsmart me. Bring those two to fight me and take over,” Bruce said, shaking his head at Other Dick. “And then you’d have a Tim you hadn’t ruined, and you’d even have a Damian who was also lethally strong. You wouldn’t be so _alone_ then.”

Bruce started to walk towards them.

Other Dick shouted at him, “I’ll kill him. I’ll kill Tim, don’t think I won’t!”

“Why would I care? Go ahead,” Bruce responded.

It was about then that Other Dick decided flight was the best option, and booked it. Bruce didn’t give chase, watching him with the eyes of someone who knew his prey was already caught.

This Tim was scrambling backwards, shaking violently, towards Dick.

It startled Dick, but he couldn’t really tell if it was for protection, or because he considered Bruce more dangerous.

“Wait,” Dick said, wondering if this was a man he could reach, and also knowing he might be his best shot at saving Tim and Damian. “Wait just a minute, I don’t want to fight you.”

Bruce surprised him by stopping, eyeing him again. “Of course you don’t want to fight me. And if we’re being honest, you and I both know the best battle is one you can end without fighting. So, I have a proposition for you.”

“And that would be?” Dick said, somewhat impatient, if he was being honest.

“That would be, you will get your brothers back when you hunt down Dick Grayson, Barbara Gordon, and Ayaka Ueno, and bring them to me. Dead or alive, though I think you would prefer alive.”

Dick didn’t know how to respond. Obviously, it would be wrong to hand over at least Barbara and Ayaka to Bruce, and maybe even Other Dick, but how could he risk Tim and Damian? He finally nodded slowly. “I’ll do it. Just… let me have Tim here for help.”

Bruce’s eyes barely showed any shock. “Fine. Just remember the rules.”

And he turned to depart, while Dick asked, “What rules?”

He got no answer. And Dick wondered if he could have taken this Bruce on, if he could have won. He wasn’t so sure that Other Dick was actually stronger than him or better at fighting. Even though this Bruce looked strong, he might not really have the same training.

Tim was looking up at him with wet, red-rimmed eyes, a suspicion evident in his trembling body. Dick was extremely careful as he offered him a hand up, asking, “How’s your breathing?”

The mark of hands around his neck was already starting to color. The hand that took Dick’s was shaky, cold, and encrusted in gravel. But Tim didn’t try to kill him, and he didn’t try to run. Dick wasn’t certain what that meant, but he said, “I won’t hurt you.”

This Tim didn’t seem so sure, but his jaw set and he looked towards the direction Other Dick had gone. 

“Yeah. Let’s find him first,” Dick murmured, and then asked, “Did you drive here?”

Tim walked off in one direction, and Dick took that as a yes.

Of course, it wasn’t actually his plan to bring the three to Bruce.

No. It was his plan to find out how to get his Tim and Damian out of this Bruce’s clutches, and if it meant tearing down Bruce’s empire, then that was what he would do.

He was going to get some goddamn answers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was thinking on what might twist the good qualities Dick Grayson has to, well, evil, and my feeling is that his need for contact, affection, and the like, could be used against him. If that makes sense.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dick gets at least a couple goddamn answers.

Tim did indeed have a vehicle, though his eyes flashed suspiciously at Dick as he pulled a sheet of plastic off of the old motorcycle. It was nothing like Jason’s or the vehicle that was Other Dick’s; this was almost just a motorbike. And the paint was chipped, and it gave an uncomfortable squeal when Tim turned it on. 

That made this Tim kick it.

“...will this thing run with two people on it?” Dick found himself asking.

Tim rather decisively sat on it, hands gripping the handles like vises. He looked sharply to Dick, scowling. He seemed to also be grinding his teeth a little.

Then he hiccupped, which made Dick almost start to reach out to hug him, a flash like a memory of his Tim going through him. Tim and Damian had better be all right, or...or Dick didn’t know what he would do.

Dick gingerly got on the back of the bike, and, from the way this Tim tensed up, got the hint to hold tight to the metal frame and not Tim.

“Okay. I know a place we can go to find Cardinal, so I’ll tell you the directions, okay?” Dick was trying hard not to be frightened _or_ too cozy. He had an all too sick feeling he knew what Other Dick had put this Tim through, and the last thing he needed was another crazy knife episode—or to have to hurt this Tim. The thought made him ill.

Much to Dick’s relief, Tim followed his directions. Less to his relief, the bike rattled and generally sounded like there probably shouldn’t be 250+ pounds of human on it. 

It was a harrowing ride in a way that the events of before weren’t, and for that, Dick supposed he should be grateful. He felt like he should be asking this Tim if he was okay, that he should be doing something to make sure he was all right after Other Dick literally attempted to kill him. 

He knew such a thing would likely shatter his Tim, and that turned his stomach again.

Because he had to wonder if it had been the same before Other Dick did whatever he did to make this Tim hate him so much. If it really had shattered this Tim. And what that would mean for his Tim if he didn’t succeed, or what would happen with this Bruce, even, since this Tim clearly knew this Bruce was not to be trusted.

Not even mentioning his Damian couldn’t possibly be what this Bruce expected, and Dick didn’t know if that was good or bad, only that he had to get them both out of there.

This Tim came to a squeaking brake, kicking out the kickstand with a screech and jumping off the bike.

Dick was sort of surprised they had exactly zero welcome, hostile or not, but then, if things had gone as bad as they seemed to have, he wouldn’t be surprised if they weren’t even here.

“You can stay here, or you can come with me. It’s your choice,” Dick informed Tim.

Tim rolled his puffy eyes, and leaned heavily against his bike. Stay there it was, then.

It was very quiet as Dick eased his way into the headquarters of the Aviary. There didn’t appear to be security measures, and he wondered if the place really was deserted. It wasn’t as if it was trashed or anything, it looked vaguely like a typical mid-range company’s office, but it was so empty.

He was pretty certain this was where they had come from when he and Cass had left. If only Barbara and Ayaka were left, it was likely they’d split, disappeared. If they weren’t here, it was going to be harder to find them.

He pushed further into the building, finding only the gentle drip of a faucet as company. He managed to locate a tiny security camera, though, a tiny beady black thing. He looked directly into it, saying, “Hey, Cardinal, I’m here to talk to you. Things didn’t go so hot, I guess, but I want to help.”

Silence.

Dick sighed. This was going to be harder than he’d thought.

“Move and die.”

The words were something of a relief. He turned to look, and there was one of the twins, presumably Ayaka, holding what looked to be a sword and shaking. Her brow was crusted with blood, and her mask was missing.

“Understood,” Dick said, making no sudden motions.

Her jawline was extremely tense, and she moved towards him slowly. Finally, she said, “Where? Where is Yuka?”

“I don’t know,” Dick responded, saying, “But I want to help you find her. Bruce has her, like my brothers.”

He didn’t know if she would believe him. He just hoped this wouldn’t be like with other Tim. 

And it wasn’t, thank god.

“If you trick me, you die,” Ayaka informed him, sheathing the sword carefully.

Maybe it was that she’d actually seen him fighting against Other Dick. Maybe it was that she saw him as her best option. Either way, Dick was somewhat relieved, nodding.

The sound of wheels alerted him to Barbara’s presence, and she eyed him. She looked to Ayaka a moment, and then seemed to decide that if Ayaka trusted him, there was a good reason. “So, Dick Grayson the Sequel, we need your help—and you still need ours.”

It almost made Dick laugh, which made him feel a surge of heartsickness for his Barbara. He nodded. “What do you need me to do?”

“We need to blow up the last tower,” Barbara said, “Then, and only then, can metas get in.”

_Kryptonite poisoning._ He vaguely remembered a mention of that from one of the twins, and it occurred to him that that was what those towers were for—likely primarily Superman, but also others. 

And then he asked the obvious question. “If metas can’t get in, can’t everyone else leave? Why don’t they?”

Barbara raised an eyebrow, as if to say, damn, he really does know nothing, and briefly explained, “Everyone in this city has trackers beneath their skin—except us. We managed to remove them. It’s not easy or easy to hide.”

“Why would all the citizens of Gotham allow that?” Dick wanted to know.

“Because it was ‘for the public good’,” Barbara sighed, “And it started when Bruce first inherited his parents’ wealth and company. Trackers were for health and safety reasons—first to keep an eye on sex offenders and violent criminals, then also to watch for people with critical illnesses, like seizures or severe allergies. And it just expanded from there—both were branded differently, but merged eventually.”

Dick was rather disturbed to think of the Bruce he knew doing this. And yet, he also knew that Bruce was capable of pulling something like off, if he thought about it. He also knew that sometimes, Bruce had a bit of a control freak aspect to his personality, and that was putting it lightly.

“So, does Oswald Cobblepot really run this group?” Dick wanted to know.

“Yes. He’s currently outside the city limits, but his businesses and property are within Gotham, so he has a vested interest in funding this group,” Barbara explained. “’Running’ is a bit strong of a word to describe what he does, but we couldn’t function without him, or without our recent agreements with others.”

Dick nodded slowly. It was a weird idea to wrap his head around, but Penguin was nothing if not self-interested. “So. The last tower needs to come down so that the cavalry can get in, yeah?”

“Yes. And, we can’t be seen doing it.”

“Why?”

Barbara sighed. “There are cameras everywhere. Except here, and what I redirect and mess with. But I don’t have access anymore, and while this hiding spot is adequate for a short while, we were trying to figure out how to evacuate when you came. But you being here, another person without a tracker...we could do it.”

It hit Dick like a stone in the chest. “Tim. He has a tracker, doesn’t he?”

Barbara’s eyes were wide. _”You brought him here?!”_

Ayaka was already moving, yanking Barbara’s chair and pushing it towards the back of the building at a relative sprint.

Dick was torn for a moment, but he raced back to Tim. If he got him to go elsewhere, perhaps Bruce wouldn’t put two and two together. If he was lucky, anyway.

He calmed himself momentarily before stepping out, unsure if there would be cameras. What he saw, however, was a total lack of Tim. He looked up and down the street, and finally shouted, “Tim?”

He suddenly felt himself break into a cold sweat. What if Tim was informing on him and the others right now? What if all of his hopes of freeing his little brothers were being foiled? What if he’d been played from the beginning?

Then there was the sound of an empty can rattling along the street, and he looked over to see a very grumpy looking Tim with what appeared to be a tablet in hand. He had that look Dick felt he’d seen on him a lot: _You must be very, very stupid._

“What are you doing?” Dick asked, jogging over. “I was worr—I mean, I didn’t know where you were.”

Tim was giving him a look that would make even the most enthusiastic puppy feel awkward, and he turned around the tablet. On it were the typed words, ‘I am substituting the nearest feeds. He doesn’t know.’

“What? Why?” Dick was confused now. If Tim had known all along, why hadn’t he communicated it?

Tim typed out something again. ‘Because this is against the rules.’

“Which rules?”

Tim’s teeth ground a moment, like he really hated having to explain these things. ‘His rules. For me. For everyone.’

“So...do you know where we are and what’s here?” Dick asked carefully.

‘YES.’

Dick nodded slowly. He still wasn’t sure if he could trust this Tim, and quite rightly so. This Tim could be looking to screw him and the others over, and hell, he’d already attempted to literally torture Dick into telling him where Jason was. Though, that could have also been an attempt at revenge. It was unclear.

“Why are you helping?” Dick finally asked.

Tim looked at him for a long moment, then typed it out. 

‘I want to live.’

He was looking at him like this was a major confession, and with the way his skin was still pale, the ugly bruises around his neck, and the way Bruce had reacted to Other Dick attempting to murder him...Dick could hardly blame him.

And it was then that Dick decided to make a promise, and he hoped to god he didn’t make it in vain. “If you help me blow up that tower, I will get you out of here. I promise.”

Tim eyed him, but there was something that wanted so badly to believe him behind that shuttered gaze. This Tim swallowed, then nodded. ‘What do you need me to do?’

“Can you do anything about your tracker?” Dick asked him, and this made Tim pause, looking slightly frustrated. Like he wanted to say, Yes, I can disable it right now, but knew that wasn’t true.

‘I can distort its whereabouts a little. And I can keep substituting the camera images. Not for long.’ Tim looked at him with a rather cautious face. 

“Okay. You do that, stay right here, don’t leave, kay? I’ll be back, I promise.”

Dick turned to leave after getting a nod from Tim, and then sought the other two. If he could find them again, he could get their help. If not, he and this Tim were on their own. 

He hoped he wasn’t falling into his trust for his Tim with this. He hoped he wasn’t blinded by his feelings. He hoped Tim wasn’t lying or didn’t become frightened and give him up.

Hope was most of what he had right then.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With this Tim, it is a touch iffy if he'll follow through. And also, of course, Jason is not gone for good, nor is Other Dick.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The tower must come down!

Finding Barbara and Ayaka again had taken a bit longer than Dick would have liked. Convincing them to trust him, and this Tim, took longer. 

Ayaka looked at him through dark eyelashes and furrowed brows, her mouth tightly pinched. There didn’t seem to be convincing her on the table.

But Barbara was the one he needed to convince, and he managed that. Barely, but he managed.

“It’s our only shot,” Barbara had sighed, and then she said, as she looked up at him with the sort of untrusting gaze that Dick remembered from a young Barbara in a new Batgirl costume, “If this fails, you’re coming down with us.”

“I know,” Dick said, well aware that failure meant his brothers were trapped. That it could mean any number of terrible things for them that he should have prevented in the first place.

It seemed like Barbara realized this too, as if she finally accepted that this Dick Grayson cared deeply for the well-being of his siblings. He could only wonder what Other Dick had done that would make such an assertion suspect.

“I will make certain of it,” Ayaka informed him. Her eyes were like obsidian, sharp as they stayed on him like she wanted to cut him with them.

He nodded again, saying, “I understand.”

Ayaka and Yuka were sisters. He’d never forgive someone if he thought they were responsible for killing his brothers. He already knew that he could kill for Tim, and while he didn’t want to go there again...he understood.

He really wished he had his Jason and his Cass and his Bruce with him. He knew he could trust them, rather than Other Barbara and this girl who definitely didn’t like him.

They stepped out onto the street, where Other Tim was nearly imperceptible behind his corner. 

Much to Dick’s surprise, he glared at Barbara. Further to his surprise, Barbara smirked back. “Good to see you face to face. You look awful.”

Other Tim scowled, but walked towards them. His eyes flicked to Dick, like a momentary check that this was a trustworthy situation. He stopped when he was standing about half behind Dick, tablet tucked to his chest.

“Tim’s being tracked, so we’d better move fast,” Dick said, still not certain what the animosity between the two was. Obviously, they were on opposite sides of this whole...thing, but something about it seemed more personal.

“I know,” Barbara said, and Tim huffed, rolling his eyes at her. It was like he was seizing any and all chances to act like something she said or did was stupid.

“Come,” Ayaka spat irritably, gesturing towards the alleyway in which Barbara had informed him was a waiting vehicle. She’d described it as ‘a hideous van that does the job.’

And she wasn’t kidding.

The thing was tan, with spray paint on one side and a faded company logo on the other. It had a missing headlight and a battered fender. If Dick didn’t know they were going to ride in it, he could have easily assumed it was just a junk car.

Ayaka was already getting Barbara’s wheelchair in the thing, and then she looked to Dick, eyes darting to the steering wheel.

Dick inferred she didn’t know how to drive, and took the driver’s seat. Barbara’s wheelchair was parked next to him, and Tim and Ayaka piled into the back. Ayaka sat stiffly, up straight, like she might fight something at any moment; Tim sat scrunched in on himself, tablet tucked against him carefully, like if he made himself small enough he couldn’t be tracked. His fingers quickly tapped across the tablet as they started off, though, keeping the cameras off of them. It was a makeshift cover, but better than nothing.

He got the thing going at a slightly jerky speed, and turned it towards the last tower.

He only hoped they could make this work.

 

He only saw Other Dick moments before he hit the hood of the car, rolling up and around to burst in through the missing window on Barbara’s side. 

Dick did what he was trained to do—he veered the car in the hopes that Other Dick would be thrown out the window. It didn’t work, though, as Other Dick rode out the momentum and pushed past Barbara to the back.

Other Tim was kicking the back of Dick’s seat frantically until he wasn’t, and Ayaka was shouting something at Other Dick, the sound of fighting taking place in the back. 

Barbara twisted around in her seat, swinging at Other Dick. 

Dick came to a harsh brake, knowing that at least Barbara was buckled securely in; from the sound of heads clonking together, he wasn’t so sure that Ayaka or Tim were buckled in. Other Dick came up to the dashboard, and Dick finally got a good look at his face.

It was bloody, and his teeth were bared at him in a snarl. He moved fast to kick Dick in the head, but Dick managed to block, instead only getting what would surely be a massive bruise on his upper arm.

“Get out of this van,” he snapped at Other Dick.

The look he got back was hateful. “You ruined everything—now I’ll ruin everything for you.”

Dick could hear the sound of unbuckling behind him, and the van door slid open. Other Tim was a blur as he dashed off towards an alleyway.

“Tim!” Dick found himself shouting, but Other Tim never slowed his pace.

“He’s running off to Daddy Bruce to tell on you,” Other Dick sneered, “What made you think you could trust that slippery little eel?”

Ayaka leapt at Other Dick, slamming his head into the dashboard. He retaliated by kicking her back into the backseat, and then he jumped out the open van door. He pulled what appeared to be a flare gun, pointing it at Dick’s head.

“So, Richard,” he said, an almost sneer to his tone, “Tell me why I shouldn’t kill you.”

“Probably because they won’t care,” Dick said, tense but trying to appear relaxed. He wondered where Other Tim was running; he wondered how Other Dick had found them. He needed to stay calm.

“Oh, is that so? Can either of them drive this van?”

“Sure,” Dick said, even though he knew neither of them could. Barbara had briefly mentioned that a lack of a driver had thrown a monkey wrench into escape plans. She couldn’t drive this van, and Ayaka didn’t know how.

“Hm. I don’t see why they would matter to _you_ , actually,” Other Dick said, tilting his head like he was confused.

Dick just stared back at him, not about to be drawn in.

“You do know why I’m so mad, right?” Other Dick continued, “Timmy’s pretty clever, and your Damian? Very brash. They tried to escape Bruce, and it didn’t go well.” His mouth twitched, and his eyes held a deep anger. “So, you see, everything’s ruined now. I can’t go get a fresh chance, and you can’t get back your ‘brothers.’”

“Why on earth would I believe you?” Dick demanded.

Other Dick shrugged. “Why else would I come _here?_ Instead of, you know, escaping? Why would I come back for that little shit if I had anyone else left? Why would I bother warning you if I could just disappear?”

“You’re lying,” Barbara said, voice low but rising in volume. “You’re running scared. You know Bruce will end you, and you’re hoping to find a way out.”

Other Dick looked momentarily shaken, but then tsked, shaking his finger at Barbara. “Nice try. You’d love that, wouldn’t you?”

It still unsettled Dick that Other Tim was gone, as well as that they were without his help to hide themselves, but he said, voice flat, “Either put the flare gun away and leave, or I will run you down with this van.”

That made Other Dick laugh, though he still seemed unsure. “Fine. Fine, I’ll just take my Tim and leave you to your dead one. Sounds a little like Solomon, right? Good luck.”

“If you touch your Tim, I will point your Jason in your direction and I won’t stop him,” Dick snapped at Other Dick, and the way the other’s eyes widened told him that was a very real threat. He wondered how often this Jason had threatened him.

Then Other Dick laughed somewhat unconvincingly. “Jason is dead.”

“Sure he is,” Barbara said, tone laced with condescending sarcasm. “You just keep telling yourself that.”

Anger flared in Other Dick’s eyes. “Good luck driving this piece of shit without a wheel.”

He shot the flare gun at it, and Dick wasn’t sure how strong the flare was supposed to be, but the sound of the tire bursting and the smell of burning rubber was enough to tell him it wasn’t exactly a weak thing. 

Other Dick took off, in the same direction as Other Tim had gone, and Dick felt his heart leap in his chest. He’d _promised_ this Tim.

Ayaka was quickly unbuckling Barbara’s wheelchair, as Barbara said, “If we really run, we can still make it. It’ll be harder to break in without his codes, but I can do it.”

“But what about--” Dick started.

“Dick. Richard. We need you. If we don’t do this now, there’s no way you or your brothers are getting out of here, because there’s no way Bruce is going down.” Barbara was looking at him with serious eyes. “You just have to hope we can work fast enough to save everyone.”

His stomach felt a bit topsy turvy at that, but he knew she was right. Chasing after Other Dick or Other Tim at this point would undeniably wreck any attempt at blowing the final tower.

Ayaka had gotten behind Barbara’s wheel chair, ready to push and sprint. Dick ran next to her, ready to shield. He honestly wasn’t sure how good at martial arts this Barbara was, and he wasn’t sure he should take a chance.

The tower stretched before them, just around the corner. 

It had no graffiti, in fact, it was a smooth-looking gray. If Dick didn’t know better, he might think it was some sort of skyscraper, other than the fact it had no windows to speak of.

They’d gotten within twenty feet of it when they were confronted by a figure in black—and another, in black and a leather jacket and very much not dead. Angry, though.

Jason Todd held escrima sticks, and Bruce Wayne had a pole weapon of some kind that looked like it could crack skulls open. 

He growled, “This tower isn’t coming down. Not today, not ever.”

Jason glared at Dick, his escrima sticks crackling.

Dick really wished they had Other Tim with them now. He had a feeling he was the only one who could have persuaded Jason to not fight them.

Especially since he had basically bailed on Jason before. 

He tried anyway. “Jason, you don’t want to fight us--”

“I’m pretty sure I fucking do,” Jason snapped, “First you, then Dick Grayson, Original Edition. Then maybe we’ll never have to fucking deal with any more Dick goddamn Graysons!”

Ayaka had drawn her sword, eyeing both of the men like she would fight to the death.

Barbara, however, was the one to cut straight to the point. “If you fight us, you won’t be able to save Tim.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Jason demanded. “Tim’s at home. Nice try.”

He believed Tim was right where he’d left him, Dick realized. Back with Selina and the others, holding down the base.

Bruce seemed to realize that if Jason knew differently, it would mean fighting them alone, and so he charged them, snapping, “Take the Finch, I’ll take Grayson.”

Jason snapped into action, striking at Ayaka; the clang of their weapons drowned out any further attempts at talking this out.

Bruce had closed in on Dick, swinging first at his legs then back up at his head. This Bruce was strong and fast, Dick could tell, but he wasn’t identical to his Bruce in his fighting style.

Dick had no weapon, which was not ideal, but he dodged the swings and attempted to come in for a chokehold.

Bruce threw him off. He growled at him, “I suppose I should thank you; that’s two out of three. If you stop now, I might be glad to give you your brothers.”

Dick’s jaw clenched, as he dodged another blow.

“Or perhaps most of them? At this time, it’s getting less and less likely I can keep that deal with you, since you haven’t kept up your end very well.”

“What did you do?” Dick found himself growling back.

His answer was vague. “I gave you a time limit. And if you don’t meet it, you won’t be getting your brothers back in their entirety whether you beat me here or not.”

There were too many places he ought to be running to. Dick only narrowly dodged the next blow, heart thumping in his chest. “Where are they?”

He only got a smile from Bruce, eerie as it was unhelpful.

“You’ll need to surrender to know that.”

There was no way in hell...and yet, Dick couldn't make the decision instantly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay and the cliff-hanger! It was getting a touch long.
> 
> I hope all this makes any sense at all. DX


	15. Chapter 15

He had to protect his brothers. That was his goal, first and foremost. And yet, Dick knew it would be wrong to abandon Barbara, Ayaka, and the entire city of Gotham to this man.

He tried again to reach Jason, yelling, “Tim’s not back at the base, he left! He’s not safe!”

“I don’t fucking believe you!” Jason grunted out, still fighting Ayaka.

Bruce went in for another strike, and again, Dick had to defend. This Bruce was very good, maybe even as good as his Bruce. It was a wonder that many of the other counterparts were not nearly equivalent to the people Dick knew, and he wondered if this Bruce had feared them potentially becoming stronger than him.

“Time’s ticking,” Bruce informed him gravely.

“Where are they? Are they even alive?” Dick demanded, shoving this Bruce back a few feet.

“For the moment. But you don’t have long,” Bruce insisted, saying, “Hand over Ms. Gordon and Ms. Ueno, and you won’t have to worry about the time limit.”

“Not good enough,” Dick said, and he could see Bruce flinch minutely, like this was a shock. “I need proof that they’re alive and you have them, or you aren’t getting shit.”

“What do you expect me to have?” Bruce demanded, “Some live feed of them? Pictures? Mementos that only belong to them? Do you really want to take a chance on the idea that I haven’t brought you enough evidence? Do you want your brothers to die because of your own uncertainty?”

He heard Jason make a sound then, going down due to a strike from Ayaka. Bruce broke away from him, attempting to fight Ayaka.

But Dick wasn’t going to let him, managing to uppercut him on the chin while he was distracted.

That made this Bruce stagger a moment, then draw a goddamn sword, startling Dick a moment while he evaded the weapon.

Bruce could swordfight, yes, he knew that, but he really hadn’t expected that. He must not have been paying close attention.

Barbara yelled, narrowly missing being cloven by the thing, it instead leaving a gash in her chair. 

“I don’t think you understand the position you’re in, Mr. Grayson,” Bruce said, sword flashing as he slashed aside Ayaka, which made Barbara scream. The girl was crumpled up in a ball, arms around the wound.

Dick was about to reply when an explosion caught him off guard.

The ground rumbled with it, and the air blackened with smoke. The rubble was impossible to see in it, and he could hear Bruce hacking and cursing. 

“I think the person who doesn’t understand the position he’s in,” came a voice, cutting through the smoke in a crystal clear way that nearly brought tears to Dick’s eyes, “is you.”

Like the dramatic kids they were, Tim and Damian, Red Robin and Robin, stood where the smoke was clearing, capes moving with the breeze. The self-satisfied smirk on Tim’s face was well outshone by the one on Damian’s, who scoffed,

“Did you really think we could be so easily held, you old fool?”

Bruce was gasping, the smoke apparently not easy on him. “I-I sedated you! I locked you in--”

“Please. I have been building a tolerance for sedatives since I was an infant,” Damian said, trying to affect looking offended at the idea that he could be kept down by such measures. “And Drake is more than adequate at handling them as well. It was like handing us the keys.”

“Tim! Damian!” Dick found himself shouting, a euphoria nearly overcoming his sense of alertness.

They leapt down from their vantage point, and Dick could see the thing that had been blown was not, in fact, the tower, but a building a small ways away. Bruce had intended to hold them right under his nose, and leave them to be killed by the blast if Barbara and Ayaka succeeded.

The thought made Dick pretty damn angry.

“Wait,” Bruce started, “You don’t understand, the towers are a protection against metahumans—they’d enforce their will here too without them!”

“Tell it to someone who cares,” Damian said, and his own sword was drawn, and the Other Bruce and his Damian were engaged in combat. Tim rushed in to back Damian up, working together in a way that might’ve made Dick proud had he not realized he had to hurry.

“Ayaka,” he said, rushing to her side.

“Not dead,” she assured him, teeth tight. “Get the tower.”

Dick looked over to Barbara, who said, “Get me over there.” She shoved her jacket at Ayaka, telling her to stop the bleeding, and then Dick was pushing her chair at top speed. 

It was weird; the Barbara he knew wouldn’t have put up with him pushing her chair, and yet this one, who really didn’t trust him, did. Maybe it was because one of the wheels had been hit by Bruce’s sword and now rattled along in a way that made it much harder to move the chair.

She got inside the tower, and was breaking into the system there. There was a device of some kind she’d attached, and now she was tapping away on her little keyboard.

Dick looked out the door of the tower, and could see three figures joining Ayaka—all in their colors. _Good job, guys_ , was his immediate thought. He would have to tell both of them how much he appreciated them. How much he was glad he hadn’t personally fucked them up. Just...everything.

“Good to go,” Barbara said, “Run.”

He dragged her chair out the door, the clanking like scraping ear drums.

“Run!” he yelled.

He could see Ayaka had been taken already by the three, and Damian and Tim were out of sight. It made his heart jump a little, but then he saw that Jason was still where he’d been left, no longer out cold but clearly not all back.

He pushed harder, yelling for Stephanie—and she and Cass met him halfway, seizing Barbara’s wheelchair and dragging her the rest of the way.

As he doubled back.

“What are you doing?! It’s going to explode!” Barbara yelled after him.

He grabbed Jason under the armpits (this one was just as heavy as the other) and dragged him backwards, as fast as he could go. He was pretty sure he left behind Jason’s boot, but that was a minor concern before the blast hit.

He managed to get Jason behind a vehicle, covering his own ears and crouching over Jason’s head.

The sound was louder than the previous one. It was the sound of a falling empire, so Dick thought it was probably appropriate.

He had no way of knowing that when the dust settled, literally and figuratively, it would still not be over for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Probably the second to last chapter or so.

**Author's Note:**

> So, more characters soon! :D I hope you liked it, there should be more to come.
> 
> I am strung out on antibiotics, so I am writing up a storm. As one should always do with impaired judgment.


End file.
